Bloodstained Memories
by Kurohane Ookami
Summary: Grimmjow is in hiding as the former Sexta of Sosuke Aizen's private forces. Now, he's being brought back into the army, only this time he's on the opposing side. Paired with Ichigo, a young and reckless Czechoslovakian Wolfdog, he dives into a journey that may lead the former Sexta to do some soul searching about himself and his new partner. AU, rated M for Language.
1. Heart of Courage

**A/N: Bleach Wiki, I love you. Also a shout out to my fellow conspirators Singer and Kitty. Without them, this fic would still be gathering dust in my notebook. Which it's still doing. Kind of. **

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Chapter One

_The ground was frigid under his feet, the thin mud cracking slightly as he trudged through the murky substance. His boots, by now, had proven futile against the cold, and he absentmindedly noted he would need another pair of socks added to his already cocooned toes. _

_His dark clothing blended into the night that surrounded him, cloaking his lean frame and adding a sense of predatory purpose to his movements._

_Out here, in the middle of nowhere, he was at ease, no tension lining his muscular shoulders. _

_A low snort from his side shook him from his musings, and he glanced down at his four legged counterpart. Pantera's black and white coat gleamed, the border collie's sky blue eyes bright and alert. _

_A sudden, sharp snap from the left. _

_Half lidded teal eyes flickered over to the general direction, no visible concern other than the slight movement of his fingers trailing to the rifle loosely slung over one shoulder. _

"_Stoba." He jerked his head over to the side, eyes not leaving the surrounding forest. _

_Pantera swerved away from him, falling into the familiar half crouch he'd come to associate with the command, and she slipped silently into the shadows. _

_He stand remained neutral as he continued, taking in the forest. _

_It couldn't have been long until he heard the high pitched snarl of Pantera, accompanied by the explosion of a gun. _

_He froze up, startled, before darting off into the undergrowth, near desperation fueling his flight-_

O-o-O

Grimmjow bolted upright, limbs trembling and every inch of his chest soaked in sweat.

A shift of weight at his side nearly had him bolting until a pair of sleepy sky blue eyes met his own shocking teal.

Letting out a breath, he ruffled her ears gently. "Morning, sweetheart." he muttered gruffly.

The pale eyed border collie huffed, rolling onto her side and baring her stomach with a pleased look in her eyes.

"Glutten." he teased softly, trying to keep his racing heart in check and preferably in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the clean, if not a little stale, air of his home.

It had been the same dream for about a week now, and it didn't fail in striking fear into him every time it changed. The same theme always remained. Pantera was always killed.

Said canine poked her cool nose into his face and nuzzled him, knowing there was something wrong with her master but not knowing how to help.

Grimmjow rubbed behind one of her ears slowly, the show of affection soothing to both.

"It was that dream again, sweetheart." he murmured, eyes softening as the collie gave him a content look, tongue lolling out the side of her mouth and her eyes half lidded with pleasure. Snorting, he swung the remaining sheets off of himself and moved his legs over the edge in a swift motion, Pantera deciding it was a good time to abandon ship.

He could hear her nails hitting the hardwood flooring as she made her way out of his room and down the hall towards the kitchen. Sighing, Grimmjow knew that he would have to get up now that she was. He'd changed the locks on the door again so she couldn't get out on her own.

But, he had no doubt in his mind that she would figure out how in a week or so. She was a highly intelligent canine, that much he could say for certain.

He pulled himself fully upright, popping his shoulders and spine and yawning widely, pearl white teeth gleaming for a moment in the dim lighting that shone through the cracks of the curtains.

At a quiet, impatient whine from the kitchen, he sighed, clear teal gaze half lidded, and stood, stretching like a cat as he did so.

"I'm coming, sweetheart." he muttered as he padded near silently down the hall, glancing out the curtains to see overcast skies. Rain tapped a steady rhythm against the windows.

His black sweatpants hung teasingly low on his hips as he continued on his way down the hall, his tanned skin illuminating his well toned frame that wasn't quite thin, leaning towards lithe or lean. His chest still gleamed with sweat, his long teal hair cascading down his spine, tangled and mussed from his nightmare. On his forearm, a panther stalked invisible prey, the words _'aut vincere aut mori' _scrawled underneath in neat script.

Pantera nearly glared at him from her position next to the glass doors, her very vibe screaming, '_You asshole! How could you do this to me!'_

"It serves you right, you know." he informed her as he navigated the huge black island that dominated the kitchen space, a silver sink placed in the centre, the remaining wall space behind it more counter space, with an oven, cabinets, and fridge neatly tucked away. A microwave also stood proudly on the counter next to the fridge, surface worn from use.

Plugging in the coffee machine as he passed, he unlocked the door and opened it, a cool gust of air entering the warmth and making him shudder. Pantera was unaffected, darting out into the rain. No doubt to run a perimeter and check over her domain. Grimmjow watched as she disappeared into the fields long grass, headed towards the line of trees on the near horizon.

Smirking, he turned to the coffee machine, the warm scent wafting up to his sensitive nose. Inhaling it greedily, he grabbed a mug from one of the cabinets and rummaged around in the fridge in search of milk.

When he finally turned back, the coffee was practically calling his name.

Pouring the steaming liquid into his mug, he poured the milk with brisk movements before searching for a spoon. Once accomplished, he stirred it into a light cream brown, the coffee's heat dimmed only slightly.

Sighing contentedly, he sipped at his beverage and leaned against the counter, awaiting his collie's return.

o-o-o-o

He was near done his coffee when she returned, drenched and paws covered in mud up to her belly. Gleefully, she tracked dark brown prints on the stone floor, the grey highlighted with brown and water.

Automatically, she sat, watching him and waiting for the usual routine movements of drying her off.

"I suppose you'll get cold if I just leave you, hm?" he asked rhetorically.

She huffed and gave him one of her signature, _'no, really?' _looks.

Grimmjow grabbed the ever ready towel on the back of his chair and reluctantly pulled himself up from his comfortable position to towel off the patient collie. Pantera groaned in contentment when he started rubbing her head, fingers nimbly rubbing behind her ears, something he knew she would be whining about later if he forgot.

These were the moments that lulled him into peace. These moments, when he could lose himself in the simplicity of just being with Pantera.

"Well, sweetheart, are we going to go for our run?" he asked softly, putting the towel aside and settling himself on the floor. Pantera sat back on her haunches, tilting her head to one side in a silent question.

"I was asking you, sweetheart. Not the other way around." he groused. "But I'm taking that as a yes."

o-o-o-o

Twenty minutes later found the pair dressed for the occasion and at the front door of the one story rancher. He was now in long, loose shorts, with a baggy sweater done up over a white shirt. Pantera was wearing her sky blue collar that matched her eyes, and she glanced up at him before back to the door.

"Impatient, are we?" Grimmjow raised a brow. Pantera whined, feathery tail beginning to wag.

"Of course. I know the drill." he muttered before opening the door. The rain was still coming down steadily, and there didn't appear to be any break in the thick cloud cover overhead.

Sighing and bracing himself for the cold run, he stepped out onto the step and closed the door behind his loyal canine before hopping off and starting a brisk pace. Pantera loped beside him, her tongue already lolling out in the universal canine happy face.

He settled into his routine of zoning out, the sounds of his own heart and breathing the only thing he could hear, other than Pantera's quiet steps. This was his clockwork, something that kept him sane, something that kept him from remembering the days when war and bloodshed was all he had known.

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts out, he focused on the rainy, empty road that led to nowhere in particular.

He didn't know how long or how far they ran every day. They just ran, kept themselves going, pushed themselves to new heights whenever the opportunity struck. He would listen to nothing but the sounds of his own body. He would stop when he was tired, and turn back when he was ready.

In all, he was ruled by his instincts when he ran.

Pantera eventually began to slow, sniffing at the surrounding shrubbery that lined the edge of one side of the road. The other was fenced neatly, the property not his own. Mentally, he marked the place. A new record.

Grimmjow owned over one hundred acres of farmland, and whenever he ran, his property lined the edges of the road until the next property arrived, and then the next and the next after that.

A low bark brought him back to reality. Pantera looked up at him expectantly, and he couldn't say no to her silent plea. "Alright, sweetheart, we'll head back."

Luckily, the rain lightened up some for part of the return trip, but then came back with a vengeance. It was near hailing when the two sprinted for the door, sopping wet and trying to avoid getting pelted any more than they absolutely had to.

Shivering, Grimmjow opened the door with his key, Pantera slithering in miserably. He followed, immediately grateful for leaving the heat on, and pulled the door closed before locking it again. Some old habits would never die, no matter how hard he tried to suppress them. There were just too many skeletons in the closet for him to pretend everything was normal. Like nothing he'd been through had happened.

Had he not been so lost in his thoughts, he might have noticed the quick shadows pass over the windows across from him.

o-o-o-o

Stepping out of the shower, steam falling off of his body like he was some kind of deity, Grimmjow reached for his towel and slid it around his hips, wary of his long hair getting caught. It hadn't exactly been the most pleasant feeling the last time, and he had no wish to do it again anytime soon.

His feet caressed the carpet as he opened the door and stepped into his room, padding over to his drawers in order to paw through various articles of clothing. Pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a tight wife beater that happened to be a dark crimson, he quickly dressed before wandering back towards the living room, where his comfortable couch awaited him.

Pantera was nowhere to be found: it wasn't too surprising, considering that she always found herself warm hidey-holes when she was cold.

It wasn't until a miniscule _click _echoed through the house to his ears that he stiffened, his hand automatically reaching under the cushion to grab the SIG Sauer P220 hidden there. He had a few, actually, hidden around the house. Most were the P220, but he had a couple of the older models lying around too.

Grimmjow's jaw clenched as there was silence- and then he heard his front door implode.

Suddenly there was gunfire everywhere, the sound leaving him breathless until his mind clicked into adrenaline mode. His breathing evened, instinct telling him what to do. He dodged, firing at the nearest assailant, his entire body cloaked in black. Fortunately, his aim hadn't declined in the slightest, and his bullet struck with deadly accuracy. Grunting as shrapnel from the wall grazed his cheek, he rolled, grabbing another hidden P220 and letting loose.

He took out two more of the intruders, bullets through their brains, before one finally got a lucky hit. His leg was suddenly burning, pain washing over him in waves. Baring his teeth in defiance, Grimmjow took the man down with a couple well placed shots.

He knew damn well they weren't here for tea and crumpets. Oh no, he knew exactly who they were here for. And he sure as hell wasn't about to go down without a fight. It went against his very nature.

Pantera was nowhere to be found: had she escaped?

Gritting his teeth, he pushed aside his pain and focused on not getting pumped full of lead.

Unfortunately, another grazed his ribs moments later, sending a line of pain and fire through him.

There were more people, more masked men descending upon the rancher, and Grimmjow was running out of bullets. Snarling under his breath, he lunged for the chair next to the couch, dodging another hoard of bullets. Strangely enough, he had the feeling that they weren't actually trying to kill him. More like try and wound him enough that he would be unable to fight back.

Well, fuck that. It wasn't going to happen.

He fumbled for the gun under the cushion for a moment, dazed as part of the wall exploded by his head and more shrapnel, this time glass, embedding itself in his flesh. It seemed that a moment of being dazed was all they needed, since another round of something went off by his hiding spot.

"You wanna play, fuckers?" he roared over their gunfire. "I'll play, alright!"

He pulled a grenade out of the floorboards, a sadistic grin crossing his features. "Let's all go out with a big bang, eh? Fuck you, bitches!"

Pulling the tiny metal away from the main grenade, he launched it towards the assailants, hunkering down and waiting for the explosion.

He didn't have to wait long.

The world exploded into bright flashes and bursts of colour, the sounds fading away to static as he had the wind knocked out of him.

This time it was much harder to come back. His mind could barely comprehend the images that blurred and fuzzed in his eyes, and he couldn't move as one of the masked men staggered towards him, something suspiciously glinting in his hand.

Grimmjow hissed weakly, scrabbling for purchase on the floor but only meeting with shards of glass, glass that viciously sunk its teeth into his palms.

"Nighty night." a low, gravelly voice sneered before the syringe sunk into his shoulder. Grimmjow howled silently at the sudden pain that came with it, unsure if it was a poison or a sedative. Either or, his fuzzy mind concluded, it hurt like fucking hell.

He could feel the adrenaline wearing off, feel the pain as it came back full force, realized that the reason he couldn't find purchase on the floor was because it was soaked in his blood.

Groaning, the world tipped sideways as even his pain began to fade, the sound of barking barely heard. He didn't feel Pantera as she nuzzled him, or grabbed his shirt and began tugging, doing her best to save her master.

He could only feel his world as it faded away.


	2. A False King

**A/N: Hey. So, three reviews, three favs, and nine follows for the first chapter? Wow. That's awesome. Not too much happening this chapter, but still something.**

o-o-o-o

Chapter Two

Grimmjow's head hurt like one _sonofabitch_.

Stifling a groan, he attemted to pry his eyes open, figure out where the _hell _he was.

Cracking open one with some difficulty, he warily took in his surroundings.

He appeared to be in a well lit warehouse, the concrete floor grey and gleaming. The walls were lined with a dark wood of some kind, and a couple of tables were nearby. One was silver, a smaller table next to it with various sharp and deadly looking objects. A hospital of some kind?

The other table was a rather large desk, papers scattered across its surface and overflowing in the nearby garbage can.

He also appeared to be laying on a cot, though he couldn't be certain at this point. An IV was attached to his left hand, clear liquid within dripping steadily into the tube. Disgust and fear clear in his thoughts, he ripped it from his skin, the needle catching and ripping the skin as it came out. Blood welled up like crystals before seeping across his flesh, creating patterns and lines that had no meaning as it dripped to the floor. His chest heaved, his ribs burning as he did so, and it took him a few minutes to recollect himself and focus.

Before he could, however, one of the double doors on the opposite side of the room clicked as someone twisted the knob.

He waited.

But what he didn't expect was to see _pink_.

"Szayel?" he croaked in disbelief, struggling into a sitting position. No fucking way. He was supposed to be dead. Then again, so was he, but was that really the point? "What the fuck is going on?"

The man's brow raised in a mocking question. "You don't remember?" he asked quietly, pacing towards him, a white lab coat thrown on over a white long sleeved shirt and soft grey jeans. Observing the IV for a moment, he then sighed and looked towards Grimmjow. "It was only fluids, you know. No drugs."

"Never be too sure." he retorted, quietly assessing his wounds for a moment. Other than the muted fire in his leg, and the stinging on his cheek, he seemed to be in one piece.

"Well, Aizen's been keeping an eye on you for a while now." Szayel shrugged. "He just decided that it was time to strike."

Grimmjow's fuzzed mind sifted through the events former to passing out. "Where's Pantera?"

Szayel snorted, muttering something under his breath about 'brain damage' and 'easily distracted'. "She's just fine." Szayel pushed his glasses up with a finger carelessly. "She's in the kennel with the others. Mind, when we finally got to you we thought a nuclear weapon had gone off."

"_We_?" Grimmjow growled. "Who the hell are you with, Szayel? I thought you left Aizen."

"I did, you moron." Szayel frowned. "I guess you could say I changed sides."

"So who the fuck are you with now? And where the fuck am I?"

"You, my moronic aquaintance, are safe. And I'll have you know that there are remnants of a powerful sedative left in your bloodstream. You've been out for a couple of days."

Grimmjow listened to all of this silently, absorbing the information and wondering one thing. "How the fuck did _you_ know where I was?"

"We've been keeping tabs on you too, Grimmjow." the pink haired doctor/scientist sighed. "Since Aizen hasn't been mobile in some time, we had our concerns about what he might be doing."

"And what would that be?" Grimmjow asked sarcastically.

"He's trying to revive the Espada."

Grimmjow snarled. Of course.

"So what now? Why am I here, other than for safekeeping?"

"We want you to fight with us, Grimmjow. The Primera, Tres, Cuatro and Quinto are also here. Aizen had his sights on them, too."

"So, he's going in order, then." Grimmjow mused. No doubt Barragan, the slimy bastard, had accepted. Same with the Cero and Zommari, probably the creepy Noveno too. It really didn't amount to much, truth be told. He didn't know anyone personally other than Szayel and Starrk. The other Espada were basically a mystery to him, seeing as Aizen never had all of them gathered in one room.

"Even though there's only a few of the Espada left, they haven't exactly been sitting around doing nothing for all of these years." Szayel said softly, watching Grimmjow carefully. Probably judging him, analyzing his reactions. He'd always been the hardest nut to crack, according to Aizen.

"What." he snapped defensively, his teal eyes narrowing. Szayel's own hawkish gold challenged him for a moment more before he turned away.

"Brujeria, as you probably remember, was only in the developing stages when you left. Since then, it's become extremely potent, addicting in most cases if administered more than once. You should be careful; I recall that you never liked the drugs."

Grimmjow shuddered. He knew damn well how much he hated drugs of any kind. He'd seen what some people had turned into after being released from service. Especially after serving Aizen. They'd turned to drugs, anti-depressants and such, wasting away in time and eventually losing their minds.

And to begin with, he'd never liked them. He couldn't understand the way some people could inject themselves with drugs day after day. As far as he knew, the only drugs he'd been on were after he'd gotten his tattoo, since it had gotten a mild infection.

"So? It's not going to happen again. I'll fucking blow Zommari's brains out the next time I see him."

Szayel chuckled lightly, the sound startlingly feminine. "There's no need, Grimmjow. After all, you took care of it yourself."

"That fucker was Zommari?" he mused. He'd taken out Zommari without even realizing it? "Hell, if I'd known that, I would have killed him slower."

Szayel rolled his eyes at the familiar antics of the former Sexta, deciding a change of topic was in order.

"I see you've gotten a tattoo. Interesting choice, considering your background."

Grimmjow glanced at his forearm, the panther and latin bold against his skin. "We all have skeletons in the closet."

"You have no idea." Szayel stated seriously. His gaze was indifferent before, but now it was full of fire. He tapped a finger against the side of his head in explanation. "Aizen did a little mind fuck of his own before I escaped. Unfortunately, the damage done is permanent."

Szayel rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, running a hand through his hair and breathing in deeply. _'Quaeque ipsa miserrima vidi, et quorum pars magna fui.' _was tattooed on his own forearm, the writing thin and neat. "'So many terrible things I saw, and in so many of them I played a great part'." he quoted when he noticed Grimmjow's gaze. "Fitting, for the madness I am graced with."

Grimmjow stared at his hands. "You're right about that one." he admitted. He could remember his own ritual of release. The jeers as he'd been tied down, the heat, and then the mindnumbing, overwhelming pain that followed.

He idly reached to his side, tracing the number six that had once rested there, now a white patterned canvas of scar tissue. Luckily, it wasn't raised too much in comparison to the rest of his skin, but every now and then he would remember the position he'd been in, the flash of pain that would remind him that he would never be free. "'_Aut vincere aut mori.'_ Either to conquer or to die."

Grimmjow's eyes shadowed, darkening as he felt the meaning behind the words. "Funny, how so long ago we were fool enough to believe that Aizen could give us everything."

"We were all decieved, Grimmjow." Szayel spoke lightly. "No one escaped without some form of scarring."

He snorted, clasping his hands and tracing the panther that stalked across his skin with his gaze. "I used to be someone." he finally spoke softly. "Before Aizen. Before any of this shit that I've dragged myself into."

Szayel nodded in agreement. "Once, I could have been well on my way to curing cancer and doing research on rare forms of it. Now, I'm stuck here, healing soldiers and hiding from Aizen like the coward I am."

"You could have been worse off." Grimmjow stated. "Trust me; I've seen some of the former Espada."

He could tell by the thinning of his lips that Szayel knew exactly what had happened. "Grimmjow, you got out before anyone else. You wouldn't know what happened to them since you weren't there."

Grimmjow's lip curled. "I was a bit busy at the time, trying to keep ahead of his spies. Hell, I fucking ran to _America_. But you have to hide, and hide well. I've been free for five years, Szayel, and it only feels like the noose is tightening around my throat."

Szayel could understand that, he knew. He was in the same position as he was. Never knowing what day would be his last, checking over his shoulder at every chance, no doubt suspecting someone to be there. Watching and waiting for him to slip up, give him one chance before taking him down.

Grimmjow knew he was paranoid about Aizen, of people in general. He was never safe, that much he knew.

He chuckled lowly, earning another raised brow from Szayel. "Something amusing you?"

"Just a quote I read somewhere. 'Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you'."

A smile tugged at the corner of Szayel's lips for a moment. "I couldn't have said it better, Grimmjow." he praised.

"Oh shut it, fruitcake." he scowled for a moment before grinning to himself. "Now, any chance I can get the hell out of this room? It's making me want to fucking claw up the walls."

Szayel's features evened out into what he called his 'doctor face'. "Not today. Perhaps tomorrow or the day after. You need to rest and get the remaining drugs out of your system before you go anywhere."

Scowling, Grimmjow glared at the pink haired male before him, to no affect. "I mean it. I'm locking the door behind me." Szayel replied, his own eyes narrowing. Already, it seemed, the two were back in their rolls.

"I'll bring by some food later. Sleep, Grimmjow." he chided mildly before turning and walking away. "And please refrain from destroying my home."

Home? Grimmjow took a second look at the room. Now that he mentioned it, it did look like a home space. A couch was over against a wall, a couple of blankets thrown over it in a careless mess. Most likely it doubled as a bed. Nearby, a small drawer doubled as a shelf, with a couple of novels and a lamp on top.

A new, almost respect, rose for Szayel. He'd had to sacrifice just as much as he'd had, and he had a career to maintain as well.

Leaning back, his teal hair splayed out on the pillow, he stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts eventually lulling him into sleep.


	3. Dark Harbor of the Mind

**A/N: I thank you all for your support so far for Bloodstained Memories. **

**Special Thanks to: **

**Hollow Ichigo-Ichigo**

**PanteraFang**

**Grim Kitty Kisa**

**mimifoxlove**

**fireotaku18**

**I appreciate your supportive reviews and look forward to more in the future. **

**Two Steps From Hell is a huge part of my inspiration: I suggest you go look up their music. It's amazing. Army of Justice (Archangel) and Dark Harbor were the songs used for this chapter. **

**Oh, and btw's, there's bromance in this chap. No, it's not a Grimm/Szay fic. (Although that is an idea for the future)**

o-o-o-o

Chapter Three

Turned out Szayel's warehouse/hospital/home was on the property of some private military group, Grimmjow soon learned. His building was one of several, and definitely one of the most primitive. When Grimmjow had commented on it, Szayel had shot him a short glance before stating that 'it wasn't his fault that the building wasn't built to his standards'.

Of course, he hadn't actually meant it at the time, but it seemed that he'd hit a nerve.

It was about a week after the incident that he'd been able to somewhat hold his weight on his injured leg. Szayel had begun nattering in his doctor speak, prompting the teal haired man to stare at him blankly for a couple of minutes before finally saying, "Sorry, I don't understand complicated doctor. Try speaking idiot, I tend to understand that better."

Szayel had then gone off in a rant about imbeciles and how they couldn't do anything right these days, leaving Grimmjow highly amused.

However, Grimmjow noticed a couple of habits Szayel seemed to stick to. For one thing, there was the obsessive habit of pushing up his glasses, looking quite casual about it. But as he looked closer, he could see the faint trembling of his hand as he did so. Another was his shaky handwriting. As he wrote, if his lettering wasn't just so, it was immediately discarded.

No doubt it had something to do with the trauma of Aizen and his 'Mind Fuck'.

So here he was, laying on the cot he'd claimed as his own, his spine pressed against the wall, his hair falling every which way in his face as he stared off into space. His thoughts were beginning to take a turn for the worse, old battle scars tingling now that he'd been thrust back into the war that he thought he could escape years ago. It just proved that no matter where he went, he would never be able to hide from Aizen. His influence was more than just worldwide, it was mental damage. Actual, physical damage to his mind and his thought processes.

To put it mildly, he was fucked in the head. But by the looks of things, he was nowhere near the level of insanity that Szayel seemed to be at.

His lip curling, he ran a hand through his teal locks, examining the frail looking strands critically with half lidded eyes, contemplating the reasons behind it becoming so long.

"It would be a shame if you were thinking about cutting it."

Blinking lazily, almost cat-like, he flicked his clear gaze up to none other than Szayel.

"Never." he murmured, entranced by the way the light hit the teal, turning it to the vibrant sky blue he knew so well. "Any chance I can leave yet?"

"Not yet." Szayel stated in his know it all way, pushing up his glasses- there was that trembling again. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed.

"Funny, how you say you're mad, and yet, you've shown no sign of being crazy other than when I'm driving you fucking up the wall." he said lightly, scratching the fresh scars on his cheek.

Szayel paused- it was as if someone had pressed stop on a remote. He simply froze.

"Just because I say I am doesn't mean I'm not." he replied lowly, a dangerous note creeping into his tone. "It's better when I'm with people, have something to occupy myself. But when I'm alone.."

He raised his shirt, revealing a scar that looked very similar to a knife wound on his side. As he shifted, letting the light hit it, Grimmjow realized that it was a pattern of scars, each as pale as the other and looking like a spiderweb up his side.

"You want to know why my aspect is madness? It's because before I left, before I got away, they set Fornicaras loose before hunting her down and slaughtering her like she was nothing but cattle." Szayel snarled, his composure broken. "They'd been starving me for days, saving the best for last. And since I had no other choice-"

He whirled, beating his hand against the silver operating table, his chest heaving, hair wild and out of place. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.

"And since I had no other choice, they forced me to eat her."

Grimmjow thought his heart had stopped. The pain that Szayel must have gone through before escaping, both mental and physical, had been confirmed. It was much worse than he'd originally assumed. If what he'd gone through was Hell, then Szayel must have gone through Death itself.

"They all said I would recover, in time." Szayel laughed bitterly, straightening, turning back to Grimmjow. This time, his hawk eyes were feverish, a glaze over them that didn't seem natural to the man. "I told them, "How would you know? You've never been tortured. You've never had your own companion slaughtered before being fed to you. How can you be so sure that I'll ever recover?""

He wheezed with manic laughter, hunching his shoulders and turning away from Grimmjow again.

"And the thing is, sometimes I can feel her near me. Whenever I think I'm about to die, I feel her next to me."

Grimmjow could only sit and listen in growing horror as Szayel prattled on, his voice growing more and more exciteable as he spoke, chest heaving, looking as though he'd just stepped out of a cage that he'd been kept in for a very long time. His own memories of what he'd gone through at the hands of Aizen and his minions began resurfacing, but he refused to be swallowed by that black cloud again. He would never become that monster again, if he had anything to say about it. And did he ever have something to say about it. He could write a thousand page book about why he wouldn't do it.

One of the main ones was standing in front of him, looking quite unhinged, and to be frank, didn't look in any way, shape or form able to function properly.

"I know." he finally said softly, immediately cutting Szayel short. The pink haired male froze again, this time a spark of sanity returning to his eyes. His breathing heavy, he focused on Grimmjow, his posture sagging. Straightening himself, he fixed his hand and pulled his shirt back into its rightful place before looking back at Grimmjow.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I said I know." Grimmjow snapped. "I know quite well how the fuck they said you're supposed to feel. That it's normal, you'll get over it eventually, that you can get on with your life. I asked them how they would know if their sister hadn't been shot in front of them as blackmail."

He rested his head on his hands, propped against his knees. "She was only fucking _seven years old_. She'd never done anything to anyone in her life, even if she fucking _tried_."

He could feel his walls beginning to crumble from all the emotional stress, and he desperately clung to what remnants still stood. "She was my fucking baby sister..and I couldn't do _shit_ to protect her."

Szayel sighed, running a hand through his hair before joining Grimmjow on the cot, leaning his head against the wall and staring up at the rafters. "It sucks, doesn't it?" he asked softly, his gold eyes warm.

Grimmjow could feel hot, angry, stinging tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he refused to let them fall. Perhaps to hold on to what pride he still retained, somewhere within himself.

"I was only eleven. I didn't know what shit was gonna go down." he spat. "Nine fucking years of my life, gone."

He hadn't exactly had a happy childhood, he would admit. He and Nel had grown up in the streets, Grimmjow working odd jobs to pay for rent for Nel to stay with a friend. He hadn't known that that _friend _would stab him in the back for a couple hundred bucks from some random asshole who took over the street. All he knew was the chaos that followed. The destruction of his loosely spun web of home and comfort and family.

"You know, I'm honestly surprised you haven't done drugs, considering everything." Szayel mused from next to him.

Barking out a laugh, Grimmjow remembered why. "She made me promise. Same with the hair. Said it was 'pretty'. She hated it if I even lost a single one."

"She loved you, it would seem."

"We were all we had." Grimmjow shrugged. "On the streets, it means everything."

The sudden slam of a door had both of them jumping, both broken from their teenage-girl-syndrome as a gruff voice bellowed, "_PINK_!"

"Can't get a _fucking minute_ of peace around here." the pink haired male swore, pushing himself up and wandering over to the double doors. "I'll be back." he informed before stepping out, a noticeable crack sounding from the door as he closed it sharply.

Silence fell over him and the warehouse: Grimmjow fell into a comfortable lapse in thought, dozing until another slam of the door snapped him back to wakefulness. Szayel came in, another hulk of a man behind her, both deep in conversation.

"-and don't take pressure off of it for a while." Szayel was finishing, moving over to his desk to scrawl something on a slip of paper. "If she needs antibiotics, take this to get filled."

The Hulk, as Grimmjow decided to call him, was intimidating. His long black hair was gelled up into spikes, what appeared to be bells hanging from their ends. His face was scarred, his right eye covered by an eyepatch. He was wearing only a pair of baggy pants, his chest wrapped tightly with fresh bandages that were also bound around his forearms.

As if sensing someone, he turned, his remaining coal black eye honing in on Grimmjow.

"Hey Pink, this guy native or somethin'? He looks lika ya found 'im in the jungle somewhere."

Grimmjow immediately felt himself bristle at the taunt, curling his lip slightly at the Hulk, who looked amused for a moment before turning back to Szayel. "He's even feral. Let me know if he's a keeper, eh?"

Szayel's gaze flickered over to Grimmjow before back to the other man. "Sorry Kenpachi, he's not for your personal interests."

"Now that's a damn near shame." Kenpachi rumbled. "I might have been able to have some fun around here."

Szayel looked like he wanted to throttle Kenpachi. Repeatedly and with great pleasure. "He's a patient, Kenpachi. He is in no shape to go running off into suicide. Which, I highly doubt, he has any interest in."

Kenpachi looked disgruntled for a moment, obviously sensing that he was no longer welcome in the room. Throwing one last look at Grimmjow, he lumbered over to the door. "If ya ever change your mind, I'll be waiting."

Once Szayel had checked to make sure he was actually gone and not waiting for him outside the room, he came back to the cot and near collapsed on it.

"Meet Kenpachi Zaraki, most suicidal and psychotic bastards you'll ever see." he introduced tiredly. "Literally nothing scares him. He doesn't care if he dies, as long as it's in battle."

Ah. Grimmjow's narrowed eyes opened. That would explain why he had met Grimmjow's gaze evenly, without a flinch.

"The only thing that keeps him sane is his daughter, Yachiru."

Okay. That one shocked him. Hulk had a daughter?

"He has a kid? Who'd be fucking crazy enough to marry him?" the teal haired man blinked, attempting to put together a mental picture in his head of Kenpachi's family.

"A psycho. Which, he happens to have married. Soifon. Smallest woman you'll ever meet, temper worse then a hurricane. Yachiru gets her looks from her mother's side of the family. The results from that is tiny, cute, but someone you don't want to cross. Ever."

Something about this was really bothering Szayel, he could tell.

"What else is there?"

"She insists on calling ourselves twins since we both have pink hair." he said miserably. "That terror is a menace whenever she comes in here. I make Kenpachi come get anything she needs from me. It saves me the stress."

Grimmjow couldn't help the taunting smirk that crossed his features. "Let me get this straight. You're scared of a kid. A kid who apparently is the daughter of the Hulk and an evil pixie."

"Using simple words, yes." Szayel nodded. "But that's why she's such a good spy. No one suspects a mother and daughter of anything while they're out and about. Am I correct?"

Huh. Now that it was put into that perspective, yeah, it did make sense. Although now he was wondering who the hell would recruit a small child. Memories loomed, as if reminding him that he'd been recruited as a child, and his thoughts slowed on the topic.

"Yeah." Grimmjow found himself nodding. "I guess it does."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while, until Grimmjow's hair tickled Szayel's nose and he sneezed.

Grimmjow glanced over, his eyes heavy from dozing, and yawned, his teeth showing. "Should I say bless you? Or is it pointless since we're both going to Hell?" he wondered.

"Screw it. We're headed to Hell. There's no point in it anymore." Szayel snorted.

Grimmjow suddenly found their entire conversation hilarious. "Isn't it funny that most of our conversations revolve around being Espada?" he snickered. "We're like angsty teenagers."

Szayel looked at him like he was crazy for a moment before his face split into a small smile. "Perhaps, perhaps not." he shrugged. "Then again, our relationship while we were with the Espada was strictly business. We're only just beginning to actually work on becoming closer."

"Were you about to say _friends_, pink?"

"Don't call me that, imbecile."

"What, _friend _or pink?"

"You know damn well which one, _cat_."

"I think I hear denial. Is that denial?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Just say it. I'm your _best friend_."

"You're insane."

"Thank you. I take great pride in retaining my position in the Espada Asylum."

"You're making things up again."

"Rather clever, aren't I?"

Their banter continued for several minutes, dying down after a couple more. Grimmjow was grinning widely, showcasing the majority of his teeth to the world.

Finally, Szayel grinned back. "Yeah, I guess we are." he admitted. "It's pleasant. At times."

Grimmjow laughed, the sound softer than his usual cackle. The lines of his forehead had almost disappeared, and he looked, for lack of a better word, content. The same could be said for Szayel. His soft smile wasn't as mocking as it usually appeared, eyes warm.

For a moment, the two Espada were at peace with the world.

Too bad the world liked fucking everything up.


	4. Starfall

**A/N: Just a quick question: Do any of you think this fic is moving too quickly? Not quick enough? **

**I'm just curious, is all. **

**The last couple of chapters have been slower, but I promise that in this chapter we'll have some actual plot show up. Not much, but there is. **

**Grimmjow and Szayel's relationship is only going to be friendship in this fic. The main focus will be Ichigo and Grimmjow, with an actual pairing on the side. However, it isn't going to happen for a while, and I'm not telling you who. **

**Aren't I a big meanie?**

**Starfall and Colour the Sky, along with I Love You Forever from Two Steps From Hell are the inspirations for this chapter. **

o-o-o-o

Chapter Four

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, Grimmjow was allowed to have a shower, something that he'd been craving and needing desperately.

Although it was a basic setup similar to that of a change room, he accepted it gratefully. He needed to get the remaining stench of blood and explosives and fear out of his skin. The remnants of his short battle remained only in the remaining leg wound, which was well on its way to healing fully.

As he shed his clothing, his relished in the sudden freedom, Szayel having gone to another part of the property for an errand, leaving Grimmjow alone. It was quiet, save for the sounds of the steaming water hiting the tile.

Breathing in the warmth, he felt the tension in his shoulders release, leaving them sore from the constant tightness in the muscles.

His teal hair became plastered to his back, the colour darkening to a shadowed teal. Closing his eyes, he leaned against the tile, the cool touch of it soothing against his skin.

After a few moments of simply enjoying the sensation of scalding water pounding against his skin, he slowly began to clean himself up, gingerly washing the area around his leg wound with soap and hissing as a trail managed to sneak into the tender flesh. He washed his biceps and forearms, taking great care and time to do so. It wasn't until another good twenty minutes had passed that he began the lengthly ritual of cleaning his hair. As it was so long, it was occasionally difficult for him to wash every inch of the teal strands without leaving residue behind.

When he finally stepped out, well washed and near purring like a content housecat, towel wrapped firmly around his waist, he was only semi-surprised to find Szayel waiting for him, a small folded pile of clothing next to him.

"To replace your others." he shrugged. "It's doubtful you'd be wanting to gallavant off in the remains of them."

Along with the clothes, he was offered a hairband in order to keep his long hair out of his face for the most part. Neatly, he braided his locks and tied it before limping after Szayel.

The warehouse was home by now, or at least the bare minimum of the word. He knew that he would never have a home. Aizen would find it and destroy it, as he had with so many others. There simply was no escape.

Both he and the pink haired male had begun bonding over their 'heart-to-hearts', something that both dreaded up until the moment they had to speak.

"Maybe, if this fucking war ever ends, we'll be friends." Grimmjow mused, wandering over to the rather comfortable couch that doubled as Szayel's bed and plunking himself down on it, making himself comfortable and ignoring the twinge in his leg.

"Maybe." Szayel agreed mildly, joining Grimmjow and flicking some invisible dust off of his chest. "If both of us live through it, of course."

"Che." Grimmjow huffed. "After this long it'd be fucking luck if he managed to kill me for good."

There was silence: by now, both knew it was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. They merely thought on the previous comment and went from there. Plain and simple was their friendship, but strong already.

Szayel finally sighed, leaning his head back onto the back of the couch and staring at the ceiling. "It wouldn't be so bad if we knew what awaits us in the future."

Grimmjow scoffed. "Nah, that would just take all of the fun outta it. It's kinda nice not knowing what happens sometimes. Others...well I think we both know that we'd pay millions to find out what's gonna happen with that fucking slimy rat bastard."

"Who's a slimy rat bastard?"

The new voice was soft, sudden, and both men jumped at the noise.

"Shiro, knock it the hell off!" Szayel snapped, vein pulsing in his forehead. "You fucking know not to bring your ass into my building by now!"

The albino, since Grimmjow really had no other word for the man, held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Calm yer hormones, Pinkie. I'm just here ta check if ya need anythin' since I'm headin' out on another supply run with Zanny."

Szayel rubbed his temples for a moment, deep in thought, before snapping his fingers. "A few more notebooks and pens, a couple bottles of ibuprofen, bandages..the usual."

Shiro mock saluted, his black and gold eyes glinting. "Aye aye sir!" he cackled before taking note of Grimmjow. "Ah, I suppose he's the newbie."

Grimmjow's hair on the back of his neck stood on end as the two stared one another down, Shiro with a manic grin on his features the entire time. Grimmjow scowled, appraising this newest male. Every fiber of his logical side of his mind screamed that this guy was a killer, someone to be taken seriously unless you wanted the barrel of a gun pointed at the side of your head.

"And I suppose yer an asshole." Grimmjow retorted. His pride wounded from the vague comment, he was out for vengeance.

Shiro threw his head back and belted out insane laughter that echoed throughout the building. Wiping tears from his eyes, he grinned widely at Grimmjow. "I like ya. Ya got spunk, Blue. I think you an' me, we'll get along just fine."

The teal haired male simply nodded, not entirely sure what the hell had just happened.

"Well, I'm off. See ya in a couple days."

Turning, Shiro waved vaguely over his shoulder as he exited the room, the door clicking startlingly soft compared to the rough exterior of the albino.

Szayel groaned and stood. "Can't stand it when that arrogant prick comes here." he muttered under his breath, moving over to his desk and rummaging through a drawer before triumphantly brandishing a package of cigarettes. "Drives me back to smoking."

"So, I'm gonna take it that you two don't get along well?" Grimmjow confirmed. Szayel snorted. "That's the understatement of the century. I would have shot him myself if given the chance a while back. Now it's simply mutual dislike."

He wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but it definitely meant that the two men didn't like one another at all.

"Any other freaks of nature I should be concerned about?" he asked in amusement as Szayel lit up a cigarette and took a long drag from it.

"Other than Kenpachi and Shirosaki? Well, there's Nnoitra, the Quinto, and maybe Ulquiorra, the Cuatro. But he's usually fine unless you manage to worm your way under his skin. And that's when shit goes down. I think he very nearly killed Shirosaki once for annoying him."

Grimmjow raised a brow. Two of the Espada were considered freaks of nature? Now why did that not surprise him? Oh, yeah. Because every time he looked in a mirror, he was looking at another freak of nature. Mind, it wasn't always that way. Sometimes he considered himself a monster, but that was only when his memories were particularly bad.

"So I've met two of the four and come out alive. I think I'll survive the other two." he huffed.

"Don't be so sure. The two you've met weren't Espada." Szayel pointed out with his cigarette hanging loosely from his fingers. "And to top it off, Aizen wasn't really the type to gather all of the Espada in a room to meet face to face. Other than Ulquiorra and Starrk, I think I'm the only one who knows all of the Espada."

"Unlikely, considering I'm not exactly a people person. You're the only one who's had any amount of communication with me." Grimmjow corrected.

"And we all know that that isn't going to last much longer. You've been staying here since you're still healing, but once you're cleared you're going to have to meet with the rest of our forces." Szayel reminded, putting out the remains of his now spent cigarette and leaning against the wall.

"Whatever." Grimmjow rolled his eyes, unconcerned.

Szayel sighed, something he seemed to be doing a lot more often now that Grimmjow was under his care, and rubbed his temples. "I wonder how I've managed not to murder you yet."

"My boyish charm and rugged good looks?" he suggested, showing off his teeth in a feral grin.

"You wish." Szayel shot back.

Jutting out his bottom lip ever so slightly, he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, looking like a sulky child.

"What exactly are you doing?" Szayel questioned blandly, barely raising a brow.

"Sulking. What does it look like?"

"Rather pathetic, if you're asking my opinion."

"Good thing I wasn't asking for your opinion then, isn't it?"

"Temptation to strangle you is back."

"Aww..I can feel the love from here."

"What, my hands around your throat?"

"Nah. I'd like to see you try."

"If I wanted to kill you, I'd do it subtly. Strangling you would leave too many clues to follow. Even a blind and deaf old man would know who killed you." Szayel stated dryly.

"Not true. There are a lot of people who want to kill me. I do have the knack of pissing someone off, no matter how great their self control is." Grimmjow said smugly, shit eating grin in place and teal eyes sparking with mischief.

"You're impossible."

"You're too uptight."

Szayel flipped him off. "Go to hell."

"You first."

Growling under his breath, Szayel ground his foot into the cement floor, no doubt wanting nothing more than to throttle the teal haired man sitting in front of him. But luckily, he knew how to control the temptation, though his control was the bare minimum at best.

Grimmjow knew he'd won the round when Szayel finally huffed and left, slamming the double doors behind him. The immediate sense of being alone stung slightly, vague fear in the back of his mind rising to the tempting bait that was his memories.

A low rumble in his chest grew as a particularly nasty memory rose to his sight for a moment before he tore it down like a poster from a wall. He didn't want to deal with this shit now. Maybe later, when he knew that there was no chance of Szayel finding him battling his inner demons.

Yes, that sounded like a much better plan.


	5. Strength of a Thousand Men

**A/N: Well, I'm back already. **

**This is the chapter that everything is going to be happening. The beginning of the plot makes its entrance, and I couldn't be more thrilled. **

**In reply to one of my reviews: Ichigo will be making his appearance in the next couple of chapters. There's just a couple of loose ends that need to be tied up before I can move on to that development. **

**Dark Ages from Two Steps From Hell is the inspiration for this chapter. Moreso Strength of a Thousand Men for the last half of the chapter. **

o-o-o-o

Chapter Five

"Wake up."

Grimmjow groaned, rolling over, reluctant to move, let alone get up. He automatically knew that it was Szayel hovering above him like a bad smell- not that he particularly minded. It was nice to have some routine of sorts to keep himself from getting too restless or lazy. Every morning, Szayel would wake him up, bring a plate of various foods in while Grimmjow was doing his morning workout. Then he would eat and have a shower before getting his leg checked, which meant poking and prodding that he didn't like in any way, shape or form. After that, it depended on what Szayel was up to.

Cracking open a tired teal eye, he glared halfheartedly at the pink haired man.

"Why are you always so fucking cheerful in the fucking morning." he muttered.

Grimmjow didn't exactly find himself to be a morning person, but luckily, it wasn't that bad as long as he didn't wake up to one of his many nightmares. Thankfully, this was one of those nights. Now he was just tired instead of tired, scarred, and annoyed as hell.

o-o-o-o

After doing his workout and eating, he limped to the shower and took his time washing the sweat off of his body, taking great care with the newly healed scar on his leg from the bullet.

His clothes were simple: a black shirt over a pair of black jeans, boots lacing up underneath. He didn't take care to note what brand they were, only that they did their job and kept his feet from getting cold. Similar to one of his nightmares, he didn't like the cold much. Not after the nightmare and being out in the cold weather consistently whiel serving in the Hueco Mundo Army.

He preferred warmth: heat that would keep him content and full of energy, not bitter cold that threatened to steal his breath and his life.

Bored, he took one of the pens off of Szayel's desk and one of the notebooks and opened the page to his last entry. He'd been given the notebook after he'd had a doozy of a nightmare- one that kept him up for two nights straight following. Szayel had said that it might relieve some of the pent of fear or stress that triggered the nightmares. So far, Grimmjow hadn't noticed much difference in his sleeping patterns- the nightmares still came and went- but he had to admit that they weren't nearly as bad as they had been before. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he wasn't alone in the same room at night, or had something to vent in, but it was doing the trick.

The only thing that was missing was his beloved four legged counterpart.

Szayel knew that being away from Pantera was both beneficial and harmful to Grimmjow's mental status. On the one hand, his nightmares were redirected away from her death, something he knew bothered Grimmjow to no end because he felt so powerless. On the other, he'd practically grown up with her: where one went, the other followed. Now that they were apart, he noted Grimmjow becoming more restless as the time flowed on. But he was improving with opening up to the other male.

"Grimmjow, are you ready to go or not? We're only heading over to the kennels." Szayel frowned, watching the male braid his hair and pull on his jeans. "It's not like we're about to go anywhere important."

Grimmjow ignored the last half of his comment, lacing up his boots. It had to have been a few weeks since he'd come here. After learning from Szayel that they'd found Grimmjow outside of the remains of the rancher, rather than in it, and that it had been because Pantera had dragged him out somehow, he'd decided to reward the collie by buying her the best meat he could when he could and feeding her gourmet food for the rest of her life.

Straightening, he cracked his neck and popped his shoulders, loosening up the muscles.

"You know, that really isn't good for you." Szayel murmured quietly as he opened the door for the two of them. Grimmjow walked through first, seeing a long hallway and another set of doors at the other side.

They walked in silence, Grimmjow taking in his surroundings as they made their way out the warehouse and over to the kennels, a large, comfortable building with large fenced enclosures along one side of the building.

The door was pushed open, the scent of canine and familiarity hitting Grimmjow like a truck. Breathing it in, he honed in on the vague sounds of dogs barking from behind one of the doors ahead.

"She's in the third wing." Szayel informed, leading him to the right, where a smaller door was unlocked.

Opening it, Grimmjow moved into the kennels, his eyes barely skimming over the dogs, searching for the sky blue eyes of the border collie.

Finally, several kennels in, he found her. She was laying on the ground, head elegantly laid on her paws, eyes half lidded as she dozed, but as she saw Grimmjow, she was on her legs in seconds. Wriggling, she whined in a higher pitch, sticking her nose through the metal wire and sniffing at his hands.

"Hey sweetheart." he murmured, rubbing her ears, her head tilting to one side in pleasure. "I missed you."

She whined low in her throat, the sound pitiful.

"I know, sweetheart. I know." he said softly, not caring that Szayel was behind him any longer. "Don't worry. You'll be eating like a queen for the rest of your life, hm? How does that sound?"

By now, he was cross legged by the door, Pantera eagerly hanging on to his every word, the sneaky vixen she was. At the mention of eating like a queen, she perked her ears up and let her tongue hang out, looking innocent as always.

Apparently it sounded pretty damn good.

o-o-o-o

He'd stayed in the kennels for the rest of the day before going back to the warehouse. Szayel wrinkled his nose slightly as he came in before turning away and waving him towards the showers.

Grimmjow couldn't be bothered to care; he grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the shower.

He quickly went through the motions, his mood light as he noted that he had grabbed a pair of sweats instead of jeans. As he re-entered the warehouse, he was startled to see Szayel typing quickly at a laptop, his fingers flying over the keys. His face was blank as he stopped for a moment, scrolled, clicked, before beginning to type again.

Somehow, Grimmjow had the distinct feeling that something bad was about to happen.

"Son of a _bitch_." Szayel snarled, throwing the lid closed on the laptop, immediately a whirl of motion. Pulling out a cell phone, he hit the numbers at lightning speeds before holding it up to his ear.

"Get everybody out. Now!" he snapped. "Either Aizen's being cocky or he left one of his files open, but he's coming this way. You name it. Soldiers, aerial bombs, guns, grenades. Get someone over to the kennels. We need to get everyone out before he gets here."

There was silence for a moment. "I know." Szayel slumped slightly. "But it doesn't mean we don't have a chance."

Szayel gave Grimmjow a glance as he briskly paced over to a door and unlocked it, flicking on a light before gesturing him over, still talking to whoever was on the other line.

Looking in the room, Grimmjow thought he'd died and gone to warfare heaven.

Weapons of every kind lined shelves on the walls: a few crates practically screamed _explosive._ What caught his eye was a gun that was all too familiar to him.

A SIG Sauer P220.

Grimly, he grabbed it, making sure the weapon was locked and loaded.

Next on his list was a ballistic vest, and grabbed Interceptor body armor: basically a ballistic vest but with a few updates. The colour was dark green, and he noticed a matching pair of pants and boots over to one side. Quickly, he stripped, redressing himself in the uniform of a soldier. Though it wasn't entirely pleasant, one of the perks was the room for the weaponry on his body. There were straps of every kind, sheathed knives fitting neatly into them.

Grabbing a set of three throwing knives, one went into each boot, another around his thigh. The P220 was at his hip, with another gun of some kind at his other. An M16A2 rifle was slung across his back, the weight familiar yet not at all comforting.

Grabbing a couple of grenades, he tucked those into a pouch on his waist, double checked the ammunition and weapons, and walked back out.

Szayel was now off of the phone, and was scrambling to snatch all of his papers off of his desk and shove them into a thick briefcase, along with the laptop and his surgical tools, now wrapped carefully.

"The antibiotics are going to have to stay, but Shiro will be able to get more once we're out." he muttered, grabbing bandages off of the shelf above the desk. "Not a lot is coming with us..so ibuprofen it is."

He snatched the bottle off of the shelf, knocking a collar onto the desk surface. Szayel paused, his features blank, before gently picking it up and placing it in the briefcase. Turning, he eyed Grimmjow up before nodding curtly.

"We've got enough money to restart at the new property, so we'll leave the clothes. Are you ready?"

Grimmjow nodded once, his military training coming back to him now that he was dressed for battle.

"Good. Let's get the fuck out of here." he snapped, shutting the briefcase and locking it. Grimmjow led the way to the double doors, reaching for the handle when a gigantic shudder went through the building. There was a low hum surrounding him, filling his ears with unwanted noise.

"Shit. We're out of time." Szayel swore. Grimmjow ripped open the door, shoving the doctor out before following.

"Not if I have any-fucking-thing to say about it." he snarled, running after Szayel, pulling the P220 from its holster. Reaching the end of the corridor, the teal haired man checked out the windows, seeing utter hell.

"Fuck." he growled, getting back and formulating a game plan. "Szayel, stick right next to me. If you get hit, let me know. I'm going to unleash hell on those bastards."

Szayel looked at him like he was completely out of his mind, but at the moment, Grimmjow didn't care. He was in full army mode now, and damn it all to hell if he didn't get Szayel out at least.

"Ready?" he glanced back at Szayel, who nodded.

Grimmjow took a deep breath before kicking open the doorand bursting out, firing off the P220. Three men were taken down before the other men from Aizen's forces realized they were under attack from a new soldier. Whirling, they opened fire, only a couple of others holding off more fire from the left. Veering, he continued to fire, his face grim, Szayel still pressed to his back.

Skillfully, his fingers dug out one of the grenades, pulling out the small metal clip before launching it through the air, gun still in hand.

The resulting explosion nearly blew him off his feet, but, seeing his chance, he dragged Szayel towards the left, hoping that there would be at least one person who didn't want to kill him in that general direction.

Until mindnumbing pain struck him in the hip. He felt himself collapse, Szayel continuing on for a step or two before realizing the teal haired man was no longer with him.

"Go!" Grimmjow roared, grabbing the other grenade and launching it back in the direction they'd come. He hoped Szayel was leaving, but that theory was tossed out the window when two surprisingly strong arms hauled him to his feet and began dragging him forcefully.

"And waste all the time and effort I put into stitching you back up? I don't think so."

Grimmjow was left in shock for a moment before a feral grin spread across his features. "Yeah." he agreed.

A bullet whizzed by their heads, and Szayel near roared as he yelled. _"SHIROSAKI! YOU'D DAMN WELL PRAY THAT YOU DON'T KILL ME!"_

"Pinkie?" the voice was suspiciously close, and through the smog, the familiar head of white hair appeared. "Damn, Pinkie, you near scared the shit outta me."

"Shut it. Grimmjow needs to sit and let me look at his injuries. You and Kenpachi together?"

"Were." the albino shrugged. "He took off a minute ago, screeching like the end of the world was coming. Mind, probably because it was him causing it."

That definitely sounded like something Kenpachi would do, Grimmjow mused through the sting in his hip.

Thankfully, the smoke from the grenades was beginning to clear, and buildings shapes began to refocus. Grimmjow saw the one that he wanted and needed to get to first. Pulling away from Szayel, he started trekking towards it, ignoring the fact that he could very well get shot right now, but didn't care.

"Grimmjow!"

The call came an instant too late.

A streak of black and white flew over the ground, launching into the air and onto the soldier that had been about to slit his throat. Pantera clung on with her teeth, snarling like a feral cat as her jaws clenched.

The man howled, his fingers moving towards a gun, but Grimmjow shot him before he could kill his canine.

Pantera released the man, looking up at Grimmjow adoringly before racing off again.

It was like a nightmare.

She raced right by one of the men, not noticing the gun in his hands, and realized a second too late what she'd done.

Grimmjow couldn't hear. There was no way that this was happening. Not after everything.

But it was.

The gun fired. Pantera dropped to the ground with a shriek that could have made anyone deaf.

White noise filled his ears. He heard someone howling, and vaguely realized that it was him making the broken sounds. He lunged, gun ready to fire, but was held back by something.

_"PANTERA!"_

_"PANTERA!"_

"Grimmjow!"

Something cracked against the base of his skull, stunning him for a moment. His mind was numb, the white noise in his ears growing louder. He could feel his mouth opening as if in slow motion, feeling his voice raggedly screaming a name, over and over.

He struggled against the hands that held him back, feeling his world crumbling around him.

All he could see was the lifeless form of Pantera, lying against the cold ground, the smoke and the cloudy sky only adding to the grief.

Something blew over his ear gently before black enclosed over his vision.


	6. The Will to Protect

**A/N: Ugh..sorry for the spam, (if it even showed). I had to rewrite the ending of the last chapter, and it really doesn't want to repost. **

**Anywho, this chapter is another slow one. There are going to be a lot of them, it seems. I'm so sorry about that. I'm working on character and plot development, since it's something I'm not that strong in. **

**There's no inspiration from music this chapter. **

o-o-o-o

Chapter Six

_"Where's Szayel?"_

He was drowning in an ocean of pain. He couldn't tell which way was up, which was down. He could hear his heart beating. He knew that there was something wrong, but he couldn't hear anything, feel anything other than the pain spreading through his legs.

_"Hey, Grimm?"_

_He glanced over at Nel, her grey eyes blinking innocently up at him as she huddled under her thin blanket. Her seafoam green curls fell over her cherub-like features. _

_"Yeah, neko?"_

_"When I grow up, can I have a puppy?"_

_He ruffled her hair gently. "Anything, neko."_

o-o-o-o

"You're far too much trouble than you're worth, Grimmjow."

He felt his eyes flicker before he coughed, attempting to focus on the voice that sounded like it had come from near his head.

Shifting, he groaned, feeling the familiar sensation of pain. He cracked open an eye, wincing at the sudden light that penetrated into his pupil and sent sparks through his mind.

His head fucking _hurt_.

"Sorry."

The sound of something shifting, along with the pleasant sensation of cool washing over him. Warily, he opened his eye again, checking to make sure that it was safe for him to open the other as well.

Szayel looked haggard. His hair looked unkept, his eyes were sunken, and large bags rested heavily against his pale skin. Grimmjow noticed the shaking in his fingers, no doubt from being so busy.

"What happened?" he croaked, hating how weak he felt. Drained.

"She's gone, Grimmjow."

Immediately, memories flew by behind his eyelids, replaying the horrific events.

Clenching his teeth, he closed his eyes, feeling numb, a piece of his heart gone, destroyed. He turned his face away, keeping the tears at bay. He would not cry. He'd promised Nel that he wouldn't cry.

But the pain was quickly breaking down the dam of numbness, and he gave in, defeated. The tears flowed over his cheeks, and he found his chest shaking with silent sobs. She was gone. Pantera was gone.

It didn't sound right. There was no way that the bright, lively border collie he had just seen was gone, snatched away from him by Aizen's men. Her sky blue eyes, reflecting everything back to him. Her cocky but loyal attitude that he would never have traded for the world.

She'd been a part of him.

And now she was dead.

Szayel didn't leave him as he lay there, broken and alone. He remained at his side, quietly listening and waiting. He wouldn't judge him, that he knew. He'd lost Fornicaras, his own counterpart. He knew exactly how the teal haired male felt.

Finally, he lay there, spent. The numb feeling was back now that all of his emotions had been released into the air. He just felt _empty_.

"How many others." he finally asked, his voice monotone.

Szayel breathed quietly. "Almost all of them. It was a miracle that we managed to get you out, considering you had a piece of shrapnel stuck in your hip."

So all of the dogs hadn't made it.

"Who else?"

Szayel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Kenpachi has multiple mild wounds and a concussion, Shirosaki has three fractured ribs, a sprained wrist, and some internal bleeding from a beam from the kennel landing on him. He went in to get the dogs out, but didn't make it in time."

Grimmjow only nodded, staring up at the white ceiling.

"Harribel has a broken jaw and dislocated shoulder, and Nnoitra managed to get in Kenpachi's way, so he has a serious gash on his chest. Other than that, it's cuts and bruises."

Grimmjow struggled into a sitting position, hissing at the pain in his side but ignoring it to the best of his ability.

"You're too stubborn." Szayel informed him in a brittle tone. "It was extremely difficult to dig out the piece of steel when you were struggling."

His brows furrowed.

"You're lucky I know the human anatomy better than most specialists in the world. I used your pressure points- dangerous, but effective."

Grimmjow said nothing. How could he?

Szayel, noticing Grimmjow's stature, placed a hand on his shoulder, his own way of comforting the male.

"Does it get better?"

"Over time. But it never truly goes away."

He nodded in reply before suddenly ripping the thin blankets off of his legs and swinging them over to touch the floor. Standing, with some difficulty, he faced Szayel and looked through the walls he put up to protect himself, seeing the pain and regret lying there.

They were brothers now, brothers of war and pain and loss. They knew one another better than anyone else ever would.

"I think it's time we fought back against Aizen." he smiled. It wasn't one of sincerity, but rather, one of adrenaline, completely feral and terrifying in its own right. Szayel pushed up his glasses before nodding.

"I think you're right."

o-o-o-o

Szayel led him to another part of the mysterious building, pushing open a door and entering, the teal haired man close behind. He was putting on a brave face, refusing to let his weakness show in front of these potential threats.

There were a few people in the room they entered, all of them bandaged in some way or another.

The first he noticed was a lean man, about his own height, with shaggy brown hair and a goatee. His grey eyes were half lidded as he leaned against one of the walls, a bandage wrapped loosely around his wrist, another on his forehead.

Next to him, an extremely blond woman was sitting, one side of her face swollen and bandaged, the same shoulder on that side in a sling. Piercing aquamarine eyes watched the others around the room calmly, and her giant bust was concealed by a baggy t-shirt and her other arm.

Nearby, a violently pale man with long black hair, emerald eyes, and two tattoos that appeared to be tear tracks streaking down his face was grimacing as a more serious Shirosaki wrapped a bandage around his neck, where a deep graze lay.

After that, it was a lanky man who had to be at least several feet tall, with long black hair that near rivalled the other raven haired male in the room. The only difference was that this guy looked like he'd had a piano for breakfast, whereas the other looked more like a shadow than anything else. Violet eyes narrowed as they settled upon Grimmjow.

Grimmjow caught sight of Kenpachi too, a young girl who appeared to be no more than eight bouncing on his chest, her hair a vibrant pink that was almost as bright as Szayel's. That had to be his daughter.

A timid blond male was also there, bangs styled in an odd fashion over one eye, the other an unknown colour. He appeared to be another doctor by the way he was trying to keep the small girl from cheering and leaping on her father.

Szayel cleared his throat, though at this point it wasn't necessary at all. He'd had their attention the moment he and Grimmjow had walked through the doors.

"Now that we're all in the same room.." he began, pointing over to the brown haired male. "The Primera, Coyote Starrk."

That was hard to believe. But, being an Espada himself, Grimmjow could tell that this man was not one to be taken lightly unless he wanted to die.

Szayel turned. "The Tres, Tia Harribel."

The woman blinked in reponse, probably because her jaw was too swollen and painful for her to do much else.

"The Cuatro, Ulquiorra Schiffer."

The abnormally pale raven nodded curtly, though there was disdain of some kind in his gaze as he appraised Grimmjow. He felt his hackles raise slightly. He didn't like the way he was being looked at at all.

"The Quinto, Nnoitra Jiruga."

Nnoitra stood tall, proving that he was, in fact, over several feet tall. Leering down at Grimmjow, he raised a brow.

"This runt is the Sexta?" he scoffed.

"Coming from the guy who looks like he ate a piano." Grimmjow snapped back. Were all of the Espada this bitchy?

Shirosaki cackled from his place next to Ulquiorra, breaking the tension in the air. "_AH!_ Cap'n Jiruga got _burned_!" he crowed.

Starrk cracked a smile at that one. Harribel looked like she wanted to but couldn't, Ulquiorra was stoic, and Szayel rolled his eyes at the immaturity of the albino.

"Yes, he did. Now, can we please focus? Starrk, do we have a plan?"

Starrk nodded, clearing his throat.

"The others are at the other facility already with the surviving dogs." he replied, his tone soft, not at all the way Grimmjow had imagined the Primera to be. "Urahara is doing his best to take care of the badly injured dogs, while Abarai and Kuchiki are continuing with their routine."

By the looks of things, Szayel was the one in charge. But, looks could be decieving. It could really be any of the members of the Espada in the room. It could be the pink haired brat for all he knew!

"As long as they made it there, we'll be fine." Szayel nodded. "Harribel, I'd like you to come with Shiro to the medical centre so I can check on your injuries."

Harribel stood, as did Shiro, who looked vaguely unamused about his situation.

"Pinkie, I'm fine. This ain't about ta kill me." he protested sulkily.

"Did you get a degree in medicine?"

"No."

"Then shut the fuck up and follow me."

Grimmjow found himself smiling despite the situation. The grief had been discarded for the moment in favor of a new emotion: vengeance. He would see Aizen dead personally to avange Pantera's death.

"So, you're the Sexta." Starrk said in his soft way, stepping forward to get a closer look. "I can see where your aspect comes in."

Grimmjow didn't quite know how to react to Starrk. Although his stance was relaxed and he looked like he was about to fall asleep, he couldn't tell if it was just a ploy in order to get himself to drop his defense. He felt like he'd been thrown to the wolves now that Szayel, Harribel and Shirosaki had left.

"And you're the Primera." he finally stated.

"That I am." Starrk nodded, tilting his head to one side, eyes remaining half lidded.

"Yer a runt." Nnoitra hissed from behind him. "How someone like you became the Sexta I'll never know."

Grimmjow felt his hackles immediately rise, unstable emotion rising to the surface of his wrecked psyche.

"And I'm wondering who the hell would let you become such a pain in the ass Quinto." he retorted. His blood was fairly humming already, wanting a fight, wanting to release all of his frustration and hurt on something.

"Comes with the profession." Kenpachi barked out from his corner before snarling at the timid blond as he prodded a particularly sore spot.

"Shaddup!" Nnoitra growled back. "Is that why ya decided it was time ta slice me in half?"

"Nah. The world's bad enough with one of you. If I cut you in half, there'd be two of you." Kenpachi rumbled, eye glittering with some insanity.

Grimmjow choked on a laugh. Who knew the gruff, psycho Kenpachi had a sense of humor?

"Yachiru! Off!" he barked, taking a swipe at the pink haired menace, who was taking great pleasure in bouncing on her father.

"But Ken-chan~!" she whined, her voice small and pouty, "You're fun to bounce on!"

"Go find someone else to bother." Kenpachi sounded defeated for a moment. "But if I find out you've gotten into the sweets again.."

"Hai, Ken-chan!" the pink haired child cheered before _literally _disappearing into thin air.

"You get used to it." Starrk shrugged. "Eventually."

o-o-o-o

Later that night, Grimmjow found himself in the medical centre's bed once again, having claimed it earlier when Szayel told him that there wasn't a lot of space anywhere else. Luckily, Grimmjow didn't really care where he slept as long as it was warm.

Throwing an arm over his face, he allowed himself to fall forward into the memories of Pantera, knowing that the sooner he confronted them, the sooner he would be able to tear out Aizen's throat and mount his head on a pole somewhere.

_He was twenty when he found her, the runt of her litter of a local breeder. The man was a known supplier to Aizen's forces, and imported most breeds that he himself didn't own. _

_He'd taken one look in those sky blue eyes and had immediately chosen her. _

_He didn't know when he'd lost sight of himself somewhere in the big picture, but Pantera helped him find his way again. She showed him the light at the end of the tunnel when he was lost and confused, and when he finally made a break for freedom, she was right there with him. _

_She had been bred and raised for killing, much like he had, but he saved her from a cold death in an alley somewhere, no doubt killed by one of Aizen's many enemies. He had taken her away from that, raised her in freedom. She had grown through their trials. _

_When he'd been recruited for a short mission in Afghanistan a couple years after Aizen. They'd been strong then. He could trust her completely, as she could him. _

_Now that she was gone, his world, the world he'd created with her, was crumbling. _

_He didn't know where to go from here. _


	7. Brothers

**A/N: Oh yay! Hospital for me! *sarcasm* Although I really did have it coming this time..mighta fractured my metacarpal on my right hand. Centre one at the knuckle. My hand is very amusing to poke right now. Got to love high pain tolerance. **

**No inspiration for this chapter. **

o-o-o-o

Chapter Seven

It was only a couple of days later that Grimmjow found himself transported yet again to another military base. Szayel kept a close eye on him, as he was apparently 'not showing the correct signs of grief', but Grimmjow had chewed him out. How the hell would Szayel know how he was supposed to feel? Everyone had their own way of coping with grief. Grimmjow's was to hunt down the source and beat the living shit out of it before shredding it with his bare hands.

Sadistic? Most definitely.

But Grimmjow was no stranger to grief. He knew that in order to keep himself from falling back into that God awful hell that had been his mind, he had to keep his thoughts on anything but the grief. Therefore, what better way to do it than plot revenge?

o-o-o-o

"Ah, you must be Jeagerjaques." the blond man grinned, waving his fan in front of his face. Grimmjow raised a brow. This guy was the one in charge of all this? This fruity weirdo with the creepy grin?

The universe just loved to fuck with him, didn't it?

Then again, he probably made it too easy.

"I would think so." he replied coolly, crossing his arms. "Unless there's somehow a magical clone of me somewhere."

Urahara laughed, flicking his fan closed and grinning brightly at the teal haired man. "I like you, Jeagerjaques. Now, come along, I'd like to show you our fine establishment before dinner! I hear Abarai is making Greek tonight!"

Yep. This guy was definitely missing a few nuts and bolts upstairs. However, he had to be the man in charge for a reason, and for now, that was all he needed to not back away in disturbed silence.

_Oh come on! You've been through God knows what horrors and it's a guy with a fan that finally scares you!?_

Apparently his mind was out to taunt him. Grumbling under his breath, he started after Urahara, who had already whirled and was making his way over to a set of doors, which he graciously held open for the former Sexta. "After you~!" he beamed, urging Grimmjow through before following.

It was right about then that he realized he'd been deserted. In unfamiliar territory. With a guy in a weird outfit and a creepy grin and a funny looking haircut. Who could very well be out to kill him.

_Well fuck._

o-o-o-o

"And here we have the kennels!" Urahara cheerfully led the way, a sulky and quiet Grimmjow behind him pondering the idea of taking that idiotic fan and shoving it down the blond's throat. It would be extremely amusing to see his face twist as he tried to get it back out again, of that he was certain.

And then the words finally sunk in.

Kennel.

Almost instinctively, he thought about a P220, refusing to let his grief overwhelm him. It was a weakness, and weakness got you killed.

Grimmjow followed Urahara along the cages, examining each plaque and the names they held as Urahara introduced them.

"Here's Santa Teresa!" Urahara grinned, stopping outside of a lanky German Shepherd's kennel. "Though we all call her Resa. Her partner's Nnoitra." the blond added as an afterthought.

Grimmjow glanced in, surprised to see warm hazel meet his own calmly. Santa Teresa's fur was a shiny black, only marked with a crescent shaped scar on her chest. Her long legs were folded neatly under her frame, and after staring at the two men for a moment, she rested her head on her paws.

It was a clear dismissal to Urahara, and he led the way to the next kennel, where another shepherd was splayed out on it's side. It had a shaggier coat, with the typical markings of a German Shepherd, but darker paws. The teal haired man noted the muscles coating the well fed canine.

"And this is Los Lobos, Starrk's partner." he rambled. "He has another partner, Sora, but he hasn't been taken out into the field yet."

Glancing over to the next kennel, Urahara revealed a rather energetic dog, it's fur a dark orange and gold blend. "Sora's a Finnish Spitz. They're bred primarily for hunting, but Starrk got him partially for the company."

Grimmjow hummed, watching the energetic Spitz whirl after his tail, and compared Los Lobos to him.

He could see why Starrk got him for the company.

They crossed a couple more kennels, Urahara telling him what breed they were, their name, and their partner.

Murcielago was a Dutch Shepherd with long black fur and the oddest pair of green eyes he'd ever seen on a dog. He was paired up with Ulquiorra, who, if Grimmjow recalled correctly, also had a startling pair of green eyes.

Tiburon was a Shiloh Shepherd, a breed Grimmjow had vaguely heard mentioned once or twice but had never actually seen. His fur was 'plush', whatever the hell that meant, and his light brown eyes followed the two men coolly as they went by his kennel. He was partnered with Harribel, who had been the woman with the bandaged jaw earlier.

Then there was Benihime, Urahara's own partner. She was a black haired King Shepherd, and was most definitely the ruler of the roost. Her dark eyes stalked Grimmjow as Urahara spoke about his life story.

After that there was Zabimaru, another German Shepherd with golden eyes, mottled brown fur and a white ear that threw Grimmjow for a loop simply because of the odd markings. His partner was Renji Abarai.

There was Sode no Shirayuki, a haughty looking Ainu with snow white fur and creepy violet eyes, who was a Rukia Kuchiki's partner.

Chitora, Kenpachi's partner, had to look just as scarred as the man himself. The Sloughi's dark coloured fur was scattered with various scars and even a couple of half healed wounds.

Yachiru's German Shepherd, Tinkerbell, matched the brat perfectly. With pale blue eyes and an ash white coat, a pink collar snug around her neck, the dog practically bounced over to the chainlink to sniff at Grimmjow's shoe.

Wabisuke and Supernova, the timid Kira's companions, were a King Shepherd and a German Shepherd/Lab cross. Wabisuke had wide caramel eyes and a black and brown accented coat, and was definitely the more cautious of the two. Supernova had chocolate eyes and the markings of a Shepherd, but her coat was a few shades lighter than a purebred.

And finally, there was Zangetsu, a Czechoslovakian Wolfdog and Shirosaki's partner. His dark brown eyes and grey fur suited the albino, now that Grimmjow thought about it, and his temperment was calm and collected. Nothing at all like the psychotic demon he'd seen during the attack a couple of days ago.

"And that's about it!" Urahara chirped. "Of course, there's still Zangetsu's littermate, Ichigo..."

Grimmjow raised a brow. "Ichigo? Of all the names in the world you picked Strawberry?"

"It also means One Who Protects!" Urahara protested with a pout. "Of course, everyone thinks it's a joke when we tell them about it, so we call him Mamoru in front of other people."

"Who's his partner?"

Urahara looked suprised. "He doesn't have one. He and Zangetsu are only a couple of years old. Zangetsu picks things up quickly, you see. Ichigo is just about two, which is when we start the physical training with the dogs."

Grimmjow snorted. That was too late. By then the dog would have significantly lower concentration and skill due to lack of being raised on it. He should have been started a year and a half earlier, if not reared from pup. It's what he'd done while he'd been with Aizen, anyway.

"Let's see him."

Urahara looked at him, the startlement clear on his features for a moment before that infuriating fan was out and flapping away like a bird. "Of course, Jeagerjaques. Right this way."

He crossed the room, the sound of their footsteps and the flapping fan the only things Grimmjow could hear. The dogs had fallen completely silent, it seemed. Otherwise it was just his imagination and they'd already been quiet.

The kennel they came to was the last on the one side. Peering in, Grimmjow was completely startled at this dog's appearance.

His fur was a creamy tan, almost appearing orange. His chest was quite large, unlike his brother, and his forelegs were thinner and more elegant than his hind legs, which were heavily muscled. Wary dark amber stared back at him as he appraised him, and then Ichigo blinked. There was something about him that drew Grimmjow in, something that reminded him of Nel and Pantera.

He shook the thought from his mind. There was no way he was going to turn into some spiritual creep like Zommari had been. There was no God. There were only peoples belief that there was. And Grimmjow wasn't one of those people.

"What's he going into?" Grimmjow asked.

"All of the dogs are trained in Search and Rescue for the first six months before whatever skills they excel in are brought into their regime." Urahara shrugged. "Ichigo has a knack for tracking and guarding, so perhaps that's what he'll go into."

The teal haired male hummed a vague reply before turning back to Ichigo. He just couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity about the canine, the uncanny intelligence lurking beneath the surface of the amber eyes.

"Perhaps you would be interested in being Ichigo's partner?"

Grimmjow stiffened.

"Ichigo is one of the more challenging dogs here. Maybe a challenge is just what you need right now."

In that instant, Grimmjow understood the familiarity between him and Ichigo. It was the same desperation, that same will to survive in the world that he'd been born into. Self preservation. The walls that kept them from insanity.

And he could tell what Urahara was trying to tell him. He was worried for him, as Szayel was worried. Him, a near stranger brought to their doorstep like a stray.

Turning, opening his mouth, he blinked. Urahara had disappeared. There was only Grimmjow and Ichigo among the rest of the kennels.

Ichigo huffed softly, getting to his feet and moving over to the chainlink that kept the two apart. His amber eyes were full of determination and calm for the moment the two met gazes.

Sighing, Grimmjow crouched, holding out his fingers for him to scent. No doubt he still had some interesting smells on him from the last couple of days.

Ichigo only took a few seconds, cool nose grazing his fingers before he turned, laying himself down in disinterest.

Grimmjow huffed, not unlike the one Ichigo had made, and stood before leaving, his mind in turmoil.

o-o-o-o

_"Pantera!" he called. _

_There was a scuffling sound from behind one of the dumpsters, her head popping out from behind one with all the appearance of a gopher. Her tongue lolled out one side, eyes sparkling in the dim light that managed to make its home in the alley. _

_She was still a puppy, of course, just barely six months old and still learning the ropes of her trade. _

_"Come on." he encouraged, tapping his fingers against the side of his leg. "Time to go, girl."_

_She yipped cheekily before turning and darting down towards the dead end that made up this particular alley, her oversized paws nearly tripping her in the process. Rolling his eyes, Grimmjow pursued, the seventh time this morning. _

_Would she ever learn?_

o-o-o-o

"Grimmjow."

He bolted upright, chest heaving.

Szayel looked at him in concern, glasses gleaming lightly from the open windows. "You were having a nightmare." he informed, backing off, taking the hand that Grimmjow hadn't even noticed away from his shoulder.

Grimmjow shivered as it came back to him, running a hand through his long hair. "Yeah."

"This isn't healthy, you know." Szayel said matter of factly. "You have to let your anger, grief, whatever it is, out. It's just going to keep on building if you don't."

"How?" he snapped, making one of Szayel's pink brows to raise. "I'm still recovering, remember? I can't get out and hunt those bastards down until I'm fully recovered and written off! Until then, I'm stuck here in a cage!"

Szayel remained quiet for a moment longer before he nodded. "You're right." he admitted. "You've been waiting patiently for all of these years, and everything just keeps getting in your way. I'll talk to Urahara tomorrow. There's a team being shipped out next week. I'll see if you can be added to that list."

Grimmjow was momentarily touched by the show of..whatever the hell it was that Szayel was exhibiting before half smirking. "Thanks, Pink."

"You owe me, you stupid blue cat." Szayel retorted before they both erupted into snickers.


	8. Accepting the Past

**A/N: Hey all, I'm back with another chapter!**

**To the ever lovely Mayuzu: Yes, Ichigo is a canine. So no, he will not be making an appearance as a human. **

**And to the rest of you amazing reviewers, keep it coming! You have no idea how much it means to me to see all these e-mails waiting for me. This is just a Birthday Gift for Grim Kitty Kisa, and I'm astonished and touched that it's gained so much support already. Thank you one and all. **

**Enjoy. **

**River Flows in You by Yiruma and Valentine's Day by Linkin Park are the inspirations this chapter. **

o-o-o-o

The next seven days couldn't go fast enough for Grimmjow.

He was leaving the base, getting shipped out to Korea, where Aizen was grouping his forces, including his new Espada. He really didn't waste any time in replacing the older generation, leaving no room for mistakes, making sure that no one would even _dare _to think of crossing him.

Szayel was still fussing over him in his medical fashion, though Grimmjow knew that he was only using that excuse so that it wouldn't seem as motherly, as odd as it sounded.

Shirosaki and Kenpachi were already back on their feet and 'sparring', though it looked more like two starving wolves trying to tear one another's throats out. Grimmjow had felt a flicker of longing jolt through him as he'd watched, a tiny part of him wishing that he was the one they were fighting against. His more logical side, on the other hand, argued against it.

As usual, his logical side won that argument.

Sighing, he leaned against his palm, staring out the window at the rainy scene outside. Thick greenery and foilage surrounded the base, proving the perfect camouflage against any invading forces. And if that didn't stop anyone, there was still the barbed wire and electric fences, along with the dogs and handlers, along with various weaponry and the perfect vantage points in order to pick any stragglers off.

But he just felt trapped here. Other than his personal training, there was nothing to do, nothing to look forward to. Just mindless routines that he went through in a daze, barely recognizing that he was doing them.

He could tell that Starrk felt the same way. The Primera was fidgety, unable to stay still for more than several minutes before shifting or moving entirely out of the room or space he'd been occupying.

In fact, now that he thought on it, almost every member of their ragtag team had been itching to get the hell out of the monotone base and out into the fray. Well, all the Espada and Shirosaki and Kenpachi. The ever elusive Abarai and Kuchiki had yet to make an appearance.

"You look like you're thinking pretty hard."

Grimmjow flinched at the sudden sound, blinking and turning to glance at Starrk. "Not much else to do, is there." he replied dryly, continuing to keep an eye at the droplets of water finding their paths down the glass.

"That there isn't." Starrk hummed, pulling up a chair and plunking himself down into it, almost immediately looking like he was comfortable. Actually, he looked like that all the time. He could somehow make anything look comfortable, even if it wasn't. Even now, Grimmjow could feel the back of the wooden chair digging into his lower back. It made him want to destroy it in many various ways, each far more entertaining than the last. "You ready to leave yet?"

The teal haired man snorted, his long hair brushing his knees. "Far more than ready. If I knew where the hell I was, I would have run by now."

Starrk reclined, crossing his legs and turning his gaze out the window, his face a mask of contemplation. "Now that is a thought that we all share."

"You don't know where the hell we are and you're a part of this messed up group?" Grimmjow raised a brow. Shrugging, Starrk said nothing for a moment.

"I was only brought here about a week or two before you were, actually. I'm still pretty new to this world too."

"But not to war." Grimmjow added absently.

"I don't think any of us haven't been touched by it in some way or another." Starrk mused. "My little sister, Lilynette. She was killed in action last year. Sora is her partner, Shiva's, pup."

"My little sister Nel." Grimmjow offered in return, wondering if Starrk was being open to him alone or not, but deciding that he deserved to know that he wasn't the only one who had lost a sister. It just seemed right to him, somehow.

"I'm sorry." Starrk smiled faintly.

"Don't be. It happened a long time ago."

"It doesn't change the fact that it still happened."

Starrk had him in the centre of the verbal target and he knew it. Grimmjow was automatically defensive, the situation unfamiliar and his fight or flight mode kicking in. As if he sensed Grimmjow's turmoil, Starrk waved a hand idly and yawned. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I'm just saying."

"Mhm." Grimmjow nodded, the two men falling into silence. Grimmjow began braiding his hair, annoyed with the stubborn strands that refused to stay away from his eyes. Blowing them out of the way as he worked, he noticed Starrk watching him with his odd grey eyes.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, a bit gruff in his manner.

Starrk cocked his head to one side in a very canine manner, assessing the other male. "I can't help but wonder how on Earth you manage not to go nuts with hair that long, Grimmjow." he finally offered as an explanation.

"A promise to my sister." Grimmjow returned, pulling the hair tie around the end of the braid and flicking back over his shoulder. "Been targeted a few times because of it, but I keep fighting for her."

"I think it's a good reason." Starrk said in his quiet way before a beep from his pocket filled the room. Sighing, he fished around in his jeans for a moment before his hand came back out with a cellphone. Clicking a button with his thumb, he scrolled through something before tapping a couple of times. Then he returned it to his jeans, sharing a look with Grimmjow. "Szayel's looking for us. Apparently we're getting fitted for our uniforms before we get shipped off."

Grimmjow nodded, getting up and ignoring the jab of pain in his side. The shrapnel wound in his side was healing quickly, but the scab was itchy as fuck. Grimmjow was sorely tempted to just go at it with a piece of sandpaper, if only to ease his discomfort. Then again, Szayel had threatened to put a flea collar on him if he even thought about it.

He decided he wasn't going to voice his complaints out loud around the pink haired scientist for a while.

o-o-o-o

"Hey. Jeagerjaques."

Grimmjow turned, long teal braid swinging to his hips as he stared blankly at Kenpachi.

Although Grimmjow had been feeling restless lately, he wasn't entirely convinced that if he'd asked the guy for a fight that he wouldn't kill him. Kenpachi was a bit of a wingnut, preferring to fight with a katana rather than a gun. And to be frank, it kind of scared him. After the lull of 'peace' for the last few years, Kenpachi was like a frigid bucket of water dumped down the back of his neck.

"Yeah?" Grimmjow questioned blandly, keeping an eye on the katana slung across the hulking mans back.

"Pink's lookin' for you. Said it's important." the man gestured over his shoulder. "Last I saw, he was headed towards the trainin' room."

"Probably wants to nag me again." Grimmjow muttered, heading off in the general direction that Kenpachi had pointed. "Thanks."

But when he turned, there was no sign of the hulking man anywhere, nor were there any doors in this particular hallway.

"Huh." Grimmjow blinked. "Bastard's got the same trick as the brat."

o-o-o-o

"You wanted to see me?"

Szayel glanced up momentarily from his laptop, glasses perched low on his nose and pink hair pulled back in a low tail. Grimmjow had to admit, it suited him more than the usual loose look. He looked more like a doctor now than he ever had since he'd known him.

"Yes, actually, I did." he murmured, typing a few more keys before clicking something and closing the lid of the computor. He turned in his chair, yawning, before rubbing his forehead tiredly. "You're being shipped out in a couple of days, as I'm sure you know by now, but there's a something else that I wanted to talk to you about."

Grimmjow suddenly had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What is it?"

"You're being paired with Ichigo." Szayel stated seriously, resting his chin on the palms of his hands. "It's non-negotiable, and you have a couple of days to accustom yourself with him, so I suggest you get started."

"What did you just say?" Grimmjow asked lowly. Panic was now replacing the sinking feeling, and he fought to keep himself composed. "I don't have any interest in being paired with anyone for a while yet."

Szayel sighed, and in that moment looked years older than he actually was. "Grimmjow, I'm seriously worried about your emotional state right now. Due to the fact that you have been known to be emotionally unstable when confronted with extreme conditions, this was the only logical explanation that I could come up with that _didn't _involve a series of long, uncomfortable counseling sessions with you."

Scowling, Grimmjow took a seat in the spare chair that always seemed to be lingering around Szayel's office, always conveniently placed in the most ideal positions to speak to the pink haired male. "And I suppose that means that the mutt's getting shipped out with me?"

"Correct, Grimmjow." Szayel murmured in reply.

Grimmjow felt simmering rage replace his panic, and he growled lowly, clasping his hands together and clenching the fingers. Szayel's eyes honed in like a missile, and his lips tightened ever so slightly.

"Grimmjow, breathe. I would not appreciate it if you turned into a berserk idiot. Besides, Kenpachi would find you and tear you to shreds, if not Shirosaki."

The mention of the two people Grimmjow currently didn't want to have anything to do with snapped him out of his temporary rage immediately. He felt his muscles relax ever so little, but it helped to keep him from tossing the chair he was currently seated on through the door.

"Grimmjow, please." Szayel leaned forward. "I hate seeing you like this. I thought it was bad back then. But this- this is even worse than that."

"_Nothing _can be worse than that!" he snarled, standing from the chair. "The scars are still here, Szayel, whether I like it or not, and this time they're not going anywhere! There is nothing I can do to keep these things from happening to me!"

Szayel remained quiet throughout his rampage, and when the ringing in his ears subsided he spoke.

"Just remember that you aren't the only one who cannot rid himself of scars, Grimmjow." he said coldly, every word dripping with ice. He stood stiffly, stepping over to the door in near silence before opening it and slamming it behind him, causing a picture frame to topple from his desk to the floor.

Automatically, he paced over to it and crouched to pick it up, and then paused.

The picture had to have been taken while Szayel was still with Aizen, because it was of himself and a proud looking German Shepherd with gold eyes and a black collar. Szayel was crouching next to it, an arm slung around the canine and his hair shorter, a small smile tugging at his lips as he gazed at his companion.

Grimmjow felt himself give way, resting on his knees as he stared at the picture, realizing that it was Fornicaras in the picture, that Szayel had been smiling.

And he suddenly felt everything hit him at once. All of his grief, and anger, and hurt, pounding into him relentlessly, feeling like bullets as they peppered his very being with their emotion.

And he finally cried.


	9. The Journey Begins

**A/N: So, this chapter is kind of slow, but I hope you all enjoy it anyway. **

**There's no inspiration for this chapter.**

o-o-o-o

Chapter Nine

Ichigo looked up as a shadow fell over him, golden eyes blinking lazily at his visitor. The canine yawned, getting up and calmly pacing over to the chain link gate separating himself from Grimmjow.

"Hey." Grimmjow said softly, tickling the soft underside of his chin and earning a soft whine of contentment. "I don't suppose you've been informed that you're coming to Korea with me yet?"

Ichigo cocked his head to one side, one ear flipping over on itself and only adding to the confused look that he had in that moment.

"Yeah." Grimmjow snorted, unlocking the door and fitting the pale yellow collar that he'd picked out around Ichigo's neck. "I said the same thing."

o-o-o-o

"Now _that _is what I call a plane." Nnoitra whistled at the gigantic metal contraption, Santa Teresa looking rather unamused nearby, her elegant frame folded neatly on the ground as she surveyed her person neutrally.

"I must agree." Szayel murmured, pushing his glasses up his nose and surveying the small group around him. Starrk and Los Lobos were off to one side, Starrk looking unusually eager to get into the plane.

"It's a beauty, isn't it Starrk?" Nnoitra snickered, propping his long arms on his narrow hips.

"Sure is. After all, I designed it." Starrk nodded, his lips tugging upwards as he began walking up the huge ramp that resided at the back of the plane, no doubt to aquaint himself with the interior of the pilot area where he would be operating. The various gears, buttons, and levers only confused Szayel, but somehow, Shirosaki and Starrk could navigate like it was an empty street.

"Keep an eye on Grimmjow, Ulquiorra." Szayel said as the pale skinned male appeared beside him. "I don't know what he's going to do, but it's probably going to be stupid and reckless."

"No more than Shirosaki." Ulquiorra returned in his monotone way. "Or Kenpachi."

"You have a point there." Szayel smiled, remembering the two with some amusement. They weren't exactly the brightest crayons in the box, but at least they knew how to fight. A definite plus in the grand scheme of things.

"Where's Kira?" he asked suddenly, recalling that the timid blond would be joining the group into enemy territory as the only medic. Reluctantly, Szayel had been asked to stay behind to keep an eye on another group that would be arriving soon from Europe. So he'd handed the reins over to Kira, and hopefully he would be able to keep up with the sudden arrival of warfare in his tentative bubble of safety.

"He's coming. He just has to get Wabisuke."

"Good. Grimmjow's just getting Ichigo and taking him back to the room. Tomorrow you're off to Korea."

"That we are!" Shirosaki burst into the conversation, his usual manic grin in place as he cackled. Ulquiorra definitely seemed to stiffen, and he was suddenly giving off a murderous aura. That Shirosaki was either completely oblivious to, or he chose to ignore. Szayel was leaning towards the latter, as Shiro had flashed a cheeky grin towards Ulquiorra before scuttling off into the bowels of the plane, his cackling echoing out to the remainder of the group.

Not for the first time that afternoon, Szayel suddenly had a bad feeling that something very bad was going to happen in Korea.

And he was certain that it would have something to do with Grimmjow.

o-o-o-o

Ichigo sniffed out the perimeter of Grimmjow's temporary room, his tail wagging slightly as he went about his task, ears pricked for the slightest sound.

Grimmjow watched with some amusement from his cot, arms propping up his head, braid hanging off the edge and to the floor. Already, there was the sense of closeness between him and the Wolfdog, something that was both and irritant and a relief to the teal haired male. Irritance because he was already so quickly distracted from Pantera's death, and relief because there was another being in the room, another soul that was warming his harsh exterior.

Ichigo seemed to sense that he was being watched, and he raised his muzzle and looked at Grimmjow quizzically, as if to ask what the hell he thought he was doing in his domain.

Grimmjow raised a brow in reponse before rolling onto his back and staring at his ceiling. His, for now.

His non-existent belongings were packed, and he was more than ready to get out of this place and back into the field. The only problem that he could see was currently pacing around his room and looking rather uninterested in him.

This could end badly.

o-o-o-o

He was woken up the next morning by a banging on his door.

_"JEAGERJAQUES! WE'RE LEAVING IN TEN!" _

That was Shirosaki..banging on his door. At...four in the morning.

Ichigo was sitting by the door, his eyes alert as he waited for Grimmjow to haul himself out of bed and get going.

Grimmjow groaned, sitting up and running a hand through his loose hair, wanting to fall back asleep but unwilling to miss his chance to get the hell out of this cage. Stretching, he yawned, revealing the majority of his teeth, before slinging his legs over the side of his cot and standing.

It only took him a minute to get dressed and braid his hair before he grabbed Ichigo's leash and double checking that said canine had his collar before he closed the door to his temporary life.

o-o-o-o

Grimmjow had somehow managed to get stuck between Shirosaki and Ulquiorra in the seating arrangement. Kenpachi was next to Shirosaki, while Nnoitra, Kira, and the dogs were harnessed in across the plane.

Starrk stuck his head into their line of sight, his slate grey eyes sparking with alertness. "Everyone belted in?" he confirmed.

"Let's do this, Coyote!" Shirosaki cackled, pumping his fist.

Grimmjow was already wishing that the ride was over, and it hadn't even begun yet. He'd forgotten how much he hated feeling trapped, and if a military plane didn't do it, he didn't know what would. His fingers clenched around his harness, and he grit his teeth.

"I think someone needs to sedate Blue!" Shirosaki cackled. "He's looking a little sick!"

He glared at Shiro, wanting nothing more than to throttle the albino. However, it would probably be counter productive to the groups plans, as they were going to fight _Aizen_, not each other. Though, a little injury couldn't hurt...

The sudden rumbling of the engine snaped Grimmjow out of his thoughts, and his knuckles turned white under the pressure that he was holding the harness. Shirosaki was still cackling next to him, while Ulquiorra looked as though he was falling asleep on his other side. Which couldn't be possible, right? There wasn't anyone who could just _sleep _through something like this, right?

As the plane roared to life, Grimmjow had second thoughts. _Okay, apparently there are people who can just sleep through this kind of thing. _

What was the real kicker was that rather than moving forward, as planes usually did to get off the ground, the roaring of the metal around them grew louder and louder until he couldn't even hear Shirosaki's shrieking laughter from next to him.

And then everything just _surged _upward in a sudden motion.

Grimmjow felt as though he was being crushed by the pressure that was pushing down onto his shoulders, feeling his eardrums crack. There was a faint ringing in his ears afterwards, and everything blurred around the edges for a couple of minutes before he could focus on the speakers, which Starrk was talking quietly through.

"Sorry about that. The machinery is a little fine tuned to touch." he was saying apologetically. "It was a bit sudden."

"A little!?" Shirosaki screeched. "I think you fucking blew my eardrums!"

There was static for a moment over the line before Starrk replied sheepishly, "Oops?"

_"OOPS!?" _Shirosaki continued. _"I THINK I HAVE PERMANENT DAMAGE THANKS TO YOU!"_

"You were already there, Shiro." Starrk deadpanned. "You didn't need any help from me."

"I take offense to that." Shirosaki replied sulkily from next to Grimmjow, who wasn't entirely sure that his own hearing was going to be intact after this. "I am not insane, there's just something wrong upstairs."

"That makes no sense." Kenpachi rumbled from next to the albino. "Quiet down, White."

"Make me." Shirosaki stuck his tongue out, but seeing the look that he was being given, he seemed to tuck in on himself. But not without one last nasty look sent at the hulking male.

Ulquiorra, at this point, appeared to be sound asleep, completely unaffected by the temporary loss of hearing and breath. Kira was looking rather uncomfortable next to Nnoitra, who was sitting next to the harnessed Santa Teresa, and was ruffling her ears affectionately. Well, as affectionately as a seven foot man who looked like he'd eaten a piano could.

"So.." Shirosaki finally said, breaking through the silence and the hum of the engine. "Anyone up for storytelling?"

o-o-o-o

He wasn't entirely sure when he'd dozed off, but Grimmjow woke to the feeling of getting his jaw slammed shut.

The frame of the plane was trembling fiercely, and as he blinked away the sleep in his eyes, it swerved to one side, making a couple of the dogs yelp and scramble to regain their footing on the slippery metal beneath their paws.

"Hold on tight." Starrk's voice flickered on over the speaker, sounding tense. "There's a bit of turbulence coming up ahead."

Grimmjow suddenly had a very bad feeling in his gut.

Ulquiorra was still sleeping, though how was a miracle considering all the commotion going on. Shirosaki was still being his usual self, while Kenpachi was cleaning his jagged katana. (Something that was most likely about to become a safety hazard if the whole turbulence thing pulled through). Nnoitra was currently holding onto his harness and looking totally unconcerned with what was going on, while poor Kira looked like he'd rather be somewhere else. Most likely warm and sunny, without any of their group with him.

Ichigo, Grimmjow could see, didn't like his situation any better than he did. The canine was looking rather irritable, and his legs trembled under him as the plane took another swerve to the side. Though, at this point, none of the dogs looked very happy to be on the plane, their eyes wide and tongues hanging out as they panted. All Grimmjow could hope was that none of them let their lunches free from their stomachs. Then no one on the giant instrument of death were going to be very happy with their situation, that he could be certain of.

"Having fun yet, Jeagerjaques?" Shirosaki cackled from next to him, making him wish (for what seemed to be the ten thousandth time so far) that he would shut up already. His only hope was that Kenpachi got tired of hearing that shrill voice right next to his ear and put that sword through his chest.

Unfortunately, that scenario seemed to be highly unlikely at this point, as Grimmjow could see a pair of black headphones trailing from his ears.

And since Ulquiorra showed no signs of consciousness, it would seem that he had no other choice than to wait it out. Which, at this particular moment, seemed like hell on Earth. The plane was now extremely unstable in flight, tilting from one side to the next in the span of a few seconds.

"Sorry." Starrk said over the speaker. "You may want to stabilize the dogs, Nnoitra. It's about to get a little unsettling back there."

Grimmjow was only just beginning to process that statement when everything in his line of vision was suddenly overturned.


	10. In the Middle of Nowhere

**A/N: I'm suddenly finding myself on a roll with this fiction, and I'm again, amazed at the brilliant support I'm recieving for it. We've reached the double digits too, folks!**

**Inspiration is The Last Night from Skillet. **

o-o-o-o

Chapter Ten

It took Grimmjow a couple of moments to realize that he was suddenly hanging upside-down from his harness, blood rushing to his head and making it ache.

The dogs were whining and barking in discomfort- though Nnoitra had managed to stretch himself to help keep Santa Teresa and Chitora from panicking. Much, anyway. They were still practically foaming at the mouth like the other dogs. Well, not so much Santa Teresa. She just looked irritated.

Then, everything slowly shifted back to normality. Gravity was restored.

But, of course, Shirosaki had a few words to say to Starrk.

"_ARE YOU TRYING TO FUCKING KILL ME!?" _he screamed, making Grimmjow's ears ring for a second. _"I'VE ABOUT HAD IT WITH YOUR SHITTY DRIVING SKILLS!"_

"Then what's stopping you from taking over, Shiro?" Starrk asked in vague amusement over the intercom. "I'm sure you'd be able to figure everything out in a handful of minutes."

"I have the feeling he's insulting my intelligence." Shirosaki muttered from next to Grimmjow.

"There's no doubt about it. He is." Ulquiorra's quiet monotone spoke up, making Grimmjow nearly bolt a foot or so off of his seat. "Perhaps you should just sit back and relax, Shirosaki. You're making Jeagerjaques nervous."

"Oh shut it, Emospada." Shirosaki snapped before taking in Grimmjow's taut jaw and clenched fingers. "Well whaddya know, I am making him nervous! Don't like planes, Blue?"

"You could say that." Grimmjow grit out, suddenly feeling nauseous.

"Well, Blue, you've come to the wrong place." Shirosaki placed a hand on his shoulder. "Starrk's one of the craziest pilots out there."

"Are you sure you aren't talking about yourself again, Shiro?" Nnoitra drawled from across the way, sprawled out and looking quite comfortable. Kira, on the other hand, was looking rather terrified of the seven foot male, as one of his twig-like arms was casually slung around his shoulders.

"I dunno." Shirosaki shrugged, not taking his hand off of Grimmjow's shoulder. "It's so hard to tell us apart these days. What with all this turbulence and other fun shit that I hate having to deal with."

There was a pointed glance sent towards the cockpit after that sentence, and Grimmjow was sure that Starrk was probably getting the feeling that he was being spoken of. Better Starrk than himself, of course.

"I can hear you, you know." Starrk deadpanned.

"Love you too, Coyote." Shirosaki crooned before bursting into another fit of laughter, which sounded more like a handful of nails being dragged down a chalkboard. It wasn't pleasant to Grimmjow's ears, which were beginning to feel like someone had driven something sharp into them.

"Shiro, calm down and do something quiet. There's still a good amount of time until we get there." Starrk ordered.

"Yes sir." Shirosaki mock saluted before grabbing a deck of cards from some invisible pocket and tapping Kenpachi's shoulder.

Grimmjow settled in uncomfortably, hoping to catch a couple more minutes of rest before they touched the ground.

o-o-o-o

"Alright boys!" Nnoitra crowed, tossing out what _appeared _to be parachutes to each of the men. "This is what we're gonna do! Grab your respective canine unit and make sure that they're ready to roll! Then, we jump!"

Grimmjow was seriously beginning to question Nnoitra's sanity. Or what was left of it, anyway.

Starrk appeared from the cockpit, his hair tied back and a 'parachute' of his own strapped onto his back. "Auto-pilot's set to take the plane back to HQ." he informed Ulquiorra. "We'll be well on our way before it runs out of fuel."

"Good." Ulquiorra nodded. "Is Los Lobos ready as well?"

Starrk nodded, patting said canine on the flank as he came up to him. "Been ready this entire time. Saves what limited time we have."

"Then let's go."

Starrk went over to the wall by the rear of the plane and hit a button. Immediately, the rear of the plane opened, the ramp grazing the tops of the trees as they flew over a heavily foilaged area of forest.

"You first, newbie!" Nnoitra snickered, beckoning him forward. Reluctantly, he stepped forward, Ichigo by his side, and waited for instructions.

"Go!"

Grimmjow felt himself shoved, a pair of hands in the centre of his shoulder blades. Ichigo was at his side, the scenery blurring, and he reached out to draw the dog in close before he hit the treeline.

Son of a bitch, did it ever _hurt_. It had been a while since he'd taken a freefall out of a plane, and though he'd used to enjoy it, this time he'd only been waiting for the impact, the aftershock, the pain.

Ichigo yipped in pain as his grip tightened around his stomach, and he began struggling for freedom as Grimmjow lay there, stunned.

He didn't quite understand why Nnoitra had given him a parachute if he wasn't even going to have enough time to open the goddamned thing. Quickly, he took inventory of his wounds. His ribs hurt, though that could have been because Ichigo had been pressed against them as they'd collided with the ever lovely earth. His head was spinning, but then again, it was most likely because of the large branch that it had collided with. Other than that, he seemed to be intact, and so he reluctantly got to his feet, heading in the direction that the plane had, hoping to run into another one of his group.

"I don't suppose you know where you're going?" he asked rhetorically to Ichigo, who was sniffing around at the vegetation and marking his territory by the good old fashioned lifting of the leg.

"Apparently not." he continued, taking in his surroundings.

Above him, cloudy sky awaited, the light dim through the thick cover of foilage. Definitely to his advantage in the day, not so much at night. He could use the shadows to hide in, as long as nothing waited for him _in _said shadows.

"Well, time to get started." Grimmjow muttered, hefting his parachute tighter on his shoulders and beginning his trek through the unfamiliar territory.

o-o-o-o

Luckily for Grimmjow, it was Starrk he ran into first. The slate eyed man was sitting down and surrounded by a large amount of supplies, all of which mysteriously appearing from the suppposed _parachute_.

Los Lobos glanced up from his paws, looking rather unconcerned about the appearance of the teal haired male and his orange furred counterpart.

"That asshole gave me the impression that this thing was a parachute." Grimmjow muttered, joining him on the ground and crossing his legs. Ichigo padded over to the older canine and proceeded to nuzzle at his rear, the universal sign of greeting in the language of the dog.

"Nope." Starrk murmured vaguely, sorting through what appeared to be various parts of a gun. "Think of it as a one man army kit. Gun, ballistic vest, rations, tent, camo paint: it's what we're going to live on for the next month."

Grimmjow allowed himself a small, feral grin.

"Well then. Let's get started."

o-o-o-o

The night came quickly- Grimmjow and Starrk were the only two sharing a camp, as none of the other members of their team had shown up as of yet.

"So, when do you think Shirosaki and Kenpachi will show up?" Starrk murmured, lighting up a cigarette and tilting his head back to stare at what visible night sky shone through the thick trees.

"Probably won't. Not willingly, anyway." Grimmjow replied. "They're more of the lone wolf type than pack."

"But neither is Nnoitra. Or Ulquiorra." Starrk pointed out.

"Ulquiorra seems like the type who would show up for duty, if nothing else. Nnoitra's off the wall, but he flows with the current."

"And Kira?"

"He's probably just lost." Grimmjow shrugged. "If not, he's probably with one of the others."

Starrk hummed a reply, the tiny fire lighting up his face eerily. "Then which member do you suggest is the most likely to tolerate him?"

"If not you?" Grimmjow asked rhetorically before thinking it over again. "I doubt it would be Shirosaki or Kenpachi. They'd end up getting rid of him themselves if he even so much as sneezed. Ulquiorra would probably ditch him somewhere remote and keep going. So that would leave Nnoitra. Nnoitra seems the least likely to care what he does so long as he stays out of the way. Plus, he's a medic, so if Nnoitra runs into any trouble, he'll be able to get medical attention."

Starrk hummed again, and Grimmjow suddenly got the feeling that he'd passed some kind of test with the quiet male.

There was a companionship between them for the next couple of minutes- at least until the two canines lifted their heads and pricked their ears at something the two men couldn't hear.

Starrk drew a pair of guns from his belt, cocking them quietly while still retaining the calm persona that he always did.

Grimmjow drew his own gun, and of course it was one that he was completely familiar with. His classic P220, glistening darkly in the dim light. He flicked the safety and readied it, just in case.

"Bloody hell!" a familiar shrill voice cheered. "I thought we'd never get outta that damned jungle!"

"Shut it, White." another familiar voice rumbled, and then two shadows emerged from the darker forest.

Grimmjow and Starrk shared a look. Kenpachi and Shirosaki had arrived.

"Welcome home, boys." Starrk smirked, resheathing his weapons and crossing his arms. "About time you two showed up. We've been waiting for hours."

"Well _someone_," Shirosaki glanced down at Zangetsu, who looked far more innocent than he should considering that he and his companions had just conquered the jungle, "Got us lost."

"Sure, blame it on the dog, White." another voice snickered.

Nnoitra and Kira appeared out of the bushes, Wabisuke and Santa Teresa at their sides. "If it wasn't for Blondie here, we wouldn't have gotten out of the tree we crashed into." Nnoitra jabbed a thumb over to Kira, who seemed to shrink a bit.

"Hey, where's Emospada?" Shirosaki queried, finally noticing that there was one member and one canine missing from their reunited group.

"Right behind you, imbecile." the monotone came, along with the shadowy canine that was his partner.

Shirosaki's shoulders bristled, and he jumped, wide eyed. "Don't do that!" he screeched, whirling on the pale skinned male. Said male merely raised his brow, going around Shirosaki and taking a seat next to Grimmjow.

"Deal with it." Nnoitra snorted, taking a seat on Grimmjow's other side. "Besides, there's still another month of this fun camping crap, so I suggest you get used to it."

"But I don't wanna!" Shirosaki whined, sitting next to Starrk.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes.

This was going to be a _looooonnngg _month.


	11. A Bit of Excitement

**A/N: And the plot thickens. It's all downhill from here, and there's only a handful of chapters left before it's over already...kinda depressing, actually. **

**No inspiration for this chapter. **

o-o-o-o

Chapter Eleven

The next morning dawned early, the sun faintly gleaming through the trees.

"Hey. Coyote. Wake up." Shirosaki snickered, poking at Starrk with a pale finger. "Hey. Coyote. Wake up."

He proceeded to continue this routine, waking Grimmjow up from against his place on a tree. He was about to chew out the albino until he realized what he was doing, and settled instead for watching with great amusement.

"Hey. Coyote. Wake up." Shirosaki continued, poking Starrk again. "Hey. Coyote. Wake- _AUGH!" _

Grimmjow had to stifle his laughter. Starrk was awake all right. Awake and downright ticked that someone dared to intrude on his slumber. One of his guns was aimed at Shirosaki's face, cocked and ready.

"I dare you to do that again." he said lowly, his slate eyes alert with annoyance. "Because at the moment, I have a gun pointed at your head."

Shirosaki slowly raised his hands in surrender, an innocent grin crossing his features. "Now now, Coyote..." he laughed nervously. "You wouldn't really shoot me now, would you?"

Starrk narrowed his eyes.

A shot rang out, and suddenly everyone was awake, expecting an attack.

Shirosaki was screeching like he'd been shot. Which, coincidentally, he had. But only a mild graze along one cheek, which was beginning to bleed.

Nnoitra was the first to start the laughter, as if it was the funniest thing he had ever seen. Though for all he knew, it could be.

Grimmjow was very glad he was on Starrk's good side.

o-o-o-o

About an hour later, they were all awake, fed, and packed. The dogs were ready to go too, their limbs trembling with unshed energy.

Grimmjow looked over at Ichigo. The canine was laying down, his posture relaxed, next to his littermate, who was also looking unbothered by the excitement the other dogs were giving off.

"So, what's the plan?" Nnoitra drawled, fixing a strap on his pack as he glanced over at Starrk. "'Cause as far as I can tell, we're out here on a camping trip right now."

"We're hunting down the location of Hueco Mundo and monitoring the soldiers. If we see an Espada, we follow them."

"Those are our orders for the next month? Damn, how low we've fallen. No battle?"

"Not unless we're given the order, Jiruga."

"I hate my job."

"No, no you don't." Shirosaki patted his shoulder, shaking his head. "You crazy, boyo. You just don't admit it to yerself yet."

"Oh, shut it." Nnoitra protested, dislodging the albino's black nailed hand from his shoulder. "At least I ain't as crazy as you, Shiro."

Shirosaki shrugged, as if being called crazy was completely normal for him. Come to think of it, it probably was.

"Alright, if you ladies are done your idle chit-chat, let's get this show on the road." Starrk sighed, looking bored as he nudged Los Lobos awake, no doubt wishing he was doing the same thing. "I'd like to get a good chunk of land covered today, so unless you somehow break a leg, we aren't stopping."

Grimmjow inwardly grinned. Man, was he ever liking Starrk more and more.

o-o-o-o

As it was, they actually did make a couple of stops, mainly for catching their breaths for a moment. Even though they were almost all ex-Espada, and still had a great deal of stamina, it had definitely been a while for pretty much everyone but Grimmjow to go this long without stopping.

Ichigo was definitely struggling, however. Thinking on it, Grimmjow realized that this was most likely Ichigo's first time being out in the field.

Poor bastard. He had only a small amount of sympathy for the canine. Zangetsu was dong just fine, but was slowly getting slower to stay by his littermate's side.

Grimmjow was almost considering the possibility of slinging the canine over his shoulder and just lugging him along that way, but he knew that that was probably not the best idea, considering it would cost him more energy than it was worth.

"His stamina is not yet quite so large." Ulquiorra murmured from next to Grimmjow, nearly scaring him half to death in the process. Calming his breathing so as to not give the emotionless male any ideas, he hummed a vague reply.

"You think that I do not have emotion, do you not?"

What, was this guy a mindreader too?

Ulquiorra, to Grimmjow's amazement, let his lips curl up into a barely noticeable smile for a moment.

"Trust me, Jeagerjaques, there are many things that you may not want to discover about me." he nodded before his emotionless mask came back into place. Not a moment later, Shirosaki entered into the conversation, his miniscule graze covered with a bandaid that had coloful strawberries plastered on its surface. It surprised the teal haired man that someone as off as Shirosaki would use strawberry covered bandaids on his cuts, though he inwardly knew that it shouldn't.

"Awww...and here I thought I was gonna catch Ulqui actually being an emotional bastard instead of an Emospada." he whined, giving his best attempt at the Bambi eyes, which, in the end, made him look creepier than usual.

"Let's go." Starrk rolled his eyes, grabbing the scruff of the albino's neck and hauling him along. Zangetsu huffed, and Grimmjow swore that if he were a human, he would be rolling his eyes at his master's behavior.

Grimmjow whistled, just a single high note, but the canine yawned and stood anyway, shaking out any insects that may have been interested in making their home in his shaggy coat.

Grimmjow sighed. Pantera had never been this much of a princess-

Hold on. He shook his head, ridding himself of the thought. Now that was a dangerous territory to be entering, and one that he didn't particularly want to confront at the moment.

"You coming, Jeagerjaques?" Kenpachi rumbled as he passed by, clamping a hand onto the teal haired male's shoulder and steering him in the direction that the others had already left in.

Seeing as he really didn't have a choice in the matter, Grimmjow chose to say nothing. Which, in his opinion, was the smart thing to do. The last thing he needed was to piss off Kenpachi and have the raving lunatic come after him with his sword.

o-o-o-o

The day passed quickly.

The sun occasionally made an appearance through the trees, but for the most part the group relied on their baser instincts to guide them safely through the unfamiliar forest.

Ichigo was very noticeably tiring by now, and there didn't seem to be much else of a choice than to haul the canine onto his back and keep going.

Sighing, Grimmjow paused, allowing the weary wolfdog to come into reach before grabbing his collar and stomach and lifting him around his shoulders, looking like some kind of demented scarf. Ichigo whined nervously, wriggling slightly, but settled in when Grimmjow tapped the underside of his jaw.

However, his actions weren't unnoticed, as he'd pretty much guessed. Everyone was looking at him with varying levels of curiosity and amusement, while Shirosaki looked down at Zangetsu and commented, "Don't event think fer a second that I'll do that for ya, ya hunk of fur."

Zangetsu looked mildly offended at the comment before huffing and trotting off to sit by Santa Teresa.

"Yeah? What do _you _want, mutt?" Nnoitra grumped. Zangetsu gave him a disdainful sniff before laying down, ignoring the twiggish man.

"Fine. Be that way." Shirosaki and Nnoitra chorused at the Czechoslovakian Wolfdog.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, shifting Ichigo's weight on his shoulders and getting going on the long trek to their site for the night.


	12. Behind Enemy Lines

**A/N: Oh. God. I am so sorry that I've practically abandoned you all in my fics. But, my laptop caught a nasty cold and has been out of work for about sixteen days while it was getting repaired/cried over. So...Yeah. I apologize for making you all wait for the next chapter of BSM. And I'm also sorry for how rushed it is. **

**Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab was the inspiration for this chapter. **

o-o-o-o

Chapter Twelve

The next several days passed in a routine. Grimmjow found himself learning more and more about the strange group he was traveling with, and found himself enjoying their company each night as they huddled around their small campfire.

Ichigo was turning out to be an athletic canine without much stamina. Something that irked Grimmjow to no end as he hauled the mutt over his shoulder every other day.

Nnoitra and Shirosaki were close friends, it turned out.

Ulquiorra wasn't actually the 'emotionless bastard' that Hichigo kept saying he was. He did show emotion, just not a lot of it.

No one actually knew what Shirosaki's last name was. It was a bit of a mystery to everyone, including Ulquiorra, who was apparently the spy of the group.

Kenpachi was...weird, to say the least. Apparently, according to the hulking male, he was related to a supernatural in some part of his family tree. Of course, Grimmjow was still highly skeptical of that particular little tidbit of information, but stored it away for a later time to ponder.

He still wasn't quite sure to make of Nnoitra. The male was volatile at best, and constantly switched from mood to mood. The only one who seemed to escape his frequent rages was Kira, who was still extremely wary around most of their group.

Already, the dogs had formed themselves a pack of sorts, with Los Lobos as the Alpha and Zangetsu and Ichigo co-beta-ing. At least, Grimmjow thought that was the foundations of the group. He couldn't be too sure, as Santa Teresa was obviously asserting herself as the Alpha female, which complicated things just a little, considering that she and Los Lobos weren't even mates. Chitora was also proving to be a wild card, as he was rather assertive, but didn't appear to be willing to go up against the veteran Alpha.

Grimmjow shook his head, focusing on the task at hand.

He was following a cream clad figure through the brush, Ichigo next to him, Starrk and Los Lobos trailing a few more feet behind him. Farther off to one side, Shirosaki and Zangetsu crept along, Shirosaki's face unnaturally calm.

This was one of the Espada scouts. He knew it. He could recognize the design anywhere.

It was the Sexta crest plastered across the shoulder that had caught his attention in the first place. Who had replaced him, he wondered? He couldn't recall anyone who had been in line, other than that kid, Luppi. Always looked up to him, the little prick. Grimmjow'd always wanted to blow the punk's brains out, if only to shut him up.

Now he was seriously hoping that Luppi hadn't replaced him. It was an insult to the Sexta legacy, not to mention himself.

Rolling his eyes, he silently cursed himself for getting distracted yet again.

o-o-o-o

He knew he was being followed. As a member of the Elite Sexta Scouts, he was specially trained to hear even a moths wingbeats. So something like six different breathing signatures was almost a piece of cake to pick up on.

However, he kept silent, not giving himself away.

Subtly, he reached to his belt, pressing the emergency alert button on his small transmitter before grasping the gun next to it.

Carefully rearranging his features into one of startlement and suspicion, he stopped, turning to look around him as if he'd heard something. A faint amount of amusement crossed his mind as he heard one of the breathing signatures hitch. Ah, so one of them must have brushed against something.

It was mere childs play to deter them from thinking that they had been found out.

As he'd been instructed to do, he pressed the transmission button six times. _Six targets. Require backup._

There were many complicated patterns that he could have pressed, but he knew that these weren't normal spies or soldiers. He actually had a pretty good idea he knew exactly who was following him, but he would wait and see if his efforts payed off in the long run.

He changed course, heading back towards the main camp, his cream hood falling back and revealing long blond hair.

His lips were pressed in a thin line, and he coughed as his feet touched the dusty ground, a much different texture than the forest behind him. He noted that there were several fewer dogs tied up as he went closer, and it was only then that he allowed himself a self satisfied smile.

_Mission accomplished. _

o-o-o-o

Grimmjow didn't like the looks of the camp. It had to be the size of a small town at least, and tents and vehicles were scattered every which way.

The scout grew farther away as they paused at the edges of the forest, unwilling to be caught out in plain sight. Grimmjow especially, considering that that scout had been from the Sexta unit. Things could get really ugly really fast if one of his former unit caught him sniffing around their camp.

A lot of the soldiers had to have been pissed at the amount of Espada that got out while the going was good. No doubt the Sexta unit was the most pissed.

"Looks like he's gone." Shirosaki sighed, joining the teal haired male, Zangetsu padding along next to him. "Doesn't look like he's gonna be going anywhere, though."

"Correct." a sinister voice smirked, and a masked figure stepped into view, closely followed by several dogs and double the soldiers. "You see, you are all going to be brought to Lord Aizen."

"Shit." Starrk swore as Los Lobos growled, standing at full height as he stared the other canines in the eye.

Grimmjow sensed the attack coming before he actually reacted. He ducked before slamming a fist up, catching the soldier by surprise and dropping him like a rock.

It seemed that that had broken what little peace they could gain, and in a moment, they were under attack.

Gunfire spattered the trees, and fierce yells were heard from Shirosaki as he lunged at the dogs that had dared come near him. Zangetsu faced off with one of the soldiers, jaws clamped firmly around the butt of his gun.

Ichigo was snarling, his hackles raised as a soldier came near him, and he snapped, tearing a chunk out of the soldier before Grimmjow was certain he had even realized it. Screaming, he went down, and Ichigo went after him again to make sure that he wouldn't be rising again.

"You should keep your eyes on your opponents, fool."

Pain shot through him as a thin dagger stabbed into his leg, and automatic instincts that had long been buried raised their head. Red tinged his vision, and he lunged for the soldier, his teeth bared in a deadly snarl. He was sure that he looked feral, but those matters no longer concerned him. He was hurt. He needed to get revenge for the blood spilled.

He didn't know how long it was before he realized that the soldier was dead and a dog was approaching him until jaws clamped around his wrist, sinking in deeply and causing a high whine of pain to tear from his throat.

Backhanding the mutt with his uninjured hand, Grimmjow no longer knew who he was or where he was, but he knew that there were enemies attacking and that he needed to defend himself.

He barely heard Ichigo's yelp of pain through the haze, too intent on inflicting damage to the opponent to care.

It wasn't until more soldiers showed up, their guns ready, that he realized how hopelessly outnumbered they were. But damn it all if he was about to give it all up now.

He threw himself into the fray, ignoring the bullets that grazed him, ignoring the teeth that snapped at him.

Grimmjow didn't even realize that he was being herded away from the other two males in his group that he began to come back to himself. But he swore as he realized that there was nothing he could do to get out of this particular situation without being turned into bloody pepper.

"Call off your mutt."

The voice was low, menacing, and he could have sworn that he'd heard it before.

"Ichigo. Down." he croaked through his dry throat, realizing that he must have been bellowing at some point. The Wolfdog growled, his eyes not moving from his handler, jaws still locked around a dying soldier.

"_Down_." he repeated with more force, wincing as a gun was shoved into his back.

Ichigo stopped growling, seeming to realize that his handler was in a position that he couldn't be saved from. With a low whine, he took a step forward before cocking his head to one side, obviously confused.

Grimmjow couldn't help but see Pantera there, and he closed his eyes and grit his teeth.

"Go." he snapped at the dog, refusing to acknowledge him.

"Good." the menacing voice continued before something heavily collided with his skull, sending him plummeting into the dark.


	13. Cornered

**A/N: So, I'm proud (and a little depressed) to say that there is only about five chapters left in Bloodstained Memories, if not less. After all the difficulties I've encountered along the way, I'm glad I'm in the clear. I want to say thank you to all of you wonderful readers who have stuck with my this far. It means so much to me, and I appreciate each and every one of you. **

**Angel With a Shotgun by The Cab is the inspiration for this chapter. **

o-o-o-o

Chapter Thirteen

Grimmjow came to as a wave of something lukewarm and wet splashed down onto his face.

In a second, he was up, his eyes blinking alertly as he took in his surroundings. Or lack of, in his case.

Shadows surrounded him, and he could barely make out the outline of someone standing in front of him as light filitered through the opening of what he though to be a thick canvas tent.

"Glad to see you're finally up, Sleeping Beauty." a rumbling voice snickered before the tent flap moved, revealing light and making Grimmjow squint his eyes, the sudden brightness almost blinding him. "Now we can finally get on with our little reunion."

Grimmjow began to open his mouth to retort, a number of curses about to leave his mouth, when his jaw was grabbed by iron hands and pried apart, weight suddenly pressing down on his chest, legs, and arms.

A rubbery material was forced into his mouth, and he suddenly had the mental image of a tube, connected to a bucket of water. Dread and panic surfacing in his chest, he struggled to spit the damned thing out of his mouth, but his nose was suddenly denied access to oxygen, leaving his mouth the only means in order for him to breathe.

"It seems you've remembered what this particular exercise does." the rumbling voice from before spoke again. "Don't worry. If you're lucky, we may let you breathe before the water runs out."

Before Grimmjow could gasp for another breath, water began to pour through the tube and into the back of his throat, making him choke as he automatically tried to breathe through it. However, the task was nearly impossible, and he felt himself growing lightheaded as he continued to choke.

Just before he was sure he was going to pass out, the water ceased, leaving him coughing and retching up the water.

"Now that you understand what happens if you lie, let's get started."

o-o-o-o

Grimmjow had never been more grateful to pass out than he had during the watery torture that he endured. He felt his lungs finally give in to the onslaught of water that surged into them, and he felt himself growing dimmer and farther away from the reality of his situation before finally leaving consciousness altogether.

When he came to, he tried to move, only to grit his teeth as fire burned through his chest.

Glancing down, he was disgusted to see that he was chained down to a sterile surface of some kind, his arms littered with IV's and various other hospital equipment. Gritting his teeth, he fought against the restraints, pulling away from the needles that were tapped into his veins. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to continue, as a couple of them were lodged quite deeply in his skin, and he knew that they were going to get messy if he tore them out. However, his fear and hatred of IV's and needles took over, and with a savage rip, dislodged them, sending droplets of crimson spattering everywhere.

They had to have pumped his lungs somehow, kept him from drowning for some reason. No doubt to keep him alive for later torture of some kind.

His head was spinning, and he felt like he'd attempted to swallow something particularly nasty at some point, as the taste of bile lingered on his tongue.

Dizzily, he leaned his head back, wincing at the feel of the pressure on a sensitive spot. He was now completely spent after his attempts to rid himself of the IV's, and he felt his eyes fluttering closed again against his will.

He could have sworn he heard a concerned yell before he passed out again though.

o-o-o-o

"Someone hold him down!"

"Shit!"

Ichigo growled, hackles up, at the men trying to tie him down. Starrk was in the background, watching with narrowed eyes at the dogs behavior, Los Lobos circling the area to make sure that they weren't about to get attacked.

Shirosaki dove, aiming for the Wolfdog's massive ribcage, and missed by mere inches as Ichigo darted out of reach again.

This particular process had been going on for the last couple hours, and Starrk had finally had enough.

"Shirosaki. Stop. All of you back away _now_." he stated frigidly, moving forward. Los Lobos appeared at his side like a shadow, and his eyes didn't leave the other canine's as he stepped forward.

"Go." Starrk murmured to his partner with a soft pat on the shoulder.

Los Lobos stalked forward, his hackles beginning to raise at the agressive male that was currently displaying traits of Alpha behavior. Growling, his jaw opened slightly, revealing sharp fangs that he bared back at the elder Alpha.

"You couldn't have done this an hour ago?" Shirosaki panted with a scowl. "It coulda made my life a whole lot easier, ya know!"

Starrk didn't reply, instead watching the confrontation between the two dogs.

Ichigo was growling low in his throat, his front legs spread and hackles raised. His lanky frame was almost taller than Los Lobos', but the other dog was not intimidated in the least. He stayed put, his ears pinned back, and he raised his upper lip as he growled back. It wasn't a higher pitched one, like Ichigo's, but a more sinister, low, and dark growl that resonated from his chest.

Los Lobos was built for speed, his legs muscled and his chest narrow. Ichigo was built for speed alone, with his lithe frame and long legs. Comparing the two, bets would probably go to Ichigo, but Los Lobos was no stranger to asserting himself as Alpha. A third of the scars that littered his frame were from past encounters while serving under Aizen.

But Ichigo couldn't know that. He wasn't even born when his elder was a killing machine. He didn't know that the canine before him was quite capable of tearing out his throat without a bit of remorse.

Zangetsu was sitting next to Shirosaki restlessly, his frame tensed as he watched the battle of wills begin. He was definitely not being his usual composed self, showing concern for his littermate as he glared at Los Lobos.

Suddenly, all of the growling stopped. Almost immediately, Starrk was ushering the others away from the two canines, just as said canines launched themselves through the air at each other.

Snarls and barks were the only sounds heard, other than Shirosaki swearing like a trucker as he had to jump back in order to avoid getting his leg taken off by Ichigo. Los Lobos was fast, darting here and there with only a few snarls coming from his throat, his eyes blazing as he easily held off the younger.

Ichigo was wild, his long legs digging in as he reared, trying to get height on his senior, but Los Lobos reared back himself, teeth bared, and lunged for the Wolfdog's exposed throat with a growl. They both fell, Los Lobos standing over the other, teeth closed around Ichigo's neck, legs on either side of the younger. Ichigo refused to admit defeat, struggling against the powerful hold on his neck, before finally baring his stomach with a pained whine. If it hadn't been clear who the Alpha was before, it was definitely clear now. Los Lobos was Pack Leader next to Starrk, and Ichigo misbehaving was not about to change any of that.

Starrk snapped his fingers, and Los Lobos retracted his teeth from Ichigo's neck, no blood on them, before backing away to Starrk's side. Planting himself firmly next to the man, Starrk rubbed behind his partner's ears affectionately for a moment before clicking to Ichigo.

Said canine looked a little hesitant about this new arrangement, but came, head ducked low as he did so.

However, Starrk bent down to meet the Wolfdog's gaze, resting a hand gently on the crown of his head for a moment before standing again.

"Well, what now?" Shirosaki snarked, raising a brow and crossing his arms.

"Now we find a way to get Grimmjow back." the slate eyed male replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

o-o-o-o

He was feeling like he'd gone to Hell and back. Although, thinking on where he was, he wouldn't be too surprised. Shifting, he hissed as his ribs and lungs cried out in protest. Pausing, he allowed himself to feel the pain. After all, if he was in pain, it meant that he was still alive. And that was pretty good, in his opinion. After all, he'd been through worse. He could pull through this, no problem.

Hopefully.

His hair, at this point, was itching to the point that he was almost willing to cut all of it off and leave it to its own devices. But, considering his situation, he would be fine if he could just get his hands _free_.

Growling, he ignored the pain that it brought and wrenched his wrists as hard as he could against whatever the hell was holding them in place. Baring his teeth in a savage snarl, he pulled harder, his shoulders beginning to ache from the pressure that they were being put under. However, he had to pause for breath, his shoulders aching, to ignore the black dots flashing at the edge of his vision.

Weakly, he raised his head, looking around the dimly lit tent that he was trapped in.

From what he could see, various knives and other tools used in torture. Shuddering lightly, he pushed aside memories that came through his barriers, slamming themselves into his mind like vicious blows. He remembered exactly what each and every one of the tools surrounding him were used for, had been used for. He'd been on the recieving end of several of them, most of them recently.

"Well, this is a surprise. How pleasant to see you, Grimmjow." a soft voice greeted.

"Tsukishima." he growled back.

"Now, that isn't very nice. Is this how you treat everyone these days?" the brown eyed male asked in his soft voice. When Grimmjow had been an Espada, even then, Tsukishima's voice grated on his nerves. The man never raised his voice, never grew violent.

At least, not until the Torture Master was in the same room as his weaponry. Then he was a coldblooded machine, sadistic and ruthless. Grimmjow had lost count of how many people had gone insane in the presence of the man. Tsukishima knew very well how to keep someone alive while he tortured them. Anyone unfortunate enough to cross him was considered a dead man, and soon enough, they always would be.

"Come a little closer and I'll show you how I greet people these days." he rasped, eyes narrowing.

"Always so unfriendly, Grimmjow." the male chided, coming closer. Grimmjow automatically growled warningly, every inch of his body stiff with tension. "Fortunately for you, however, it's not me you need to be concerned about. Not for now, anyway. Rest assured, you'll be seeing me again soon enough."

Somehow, that didn't assure him in the least.

o-o-o-o

Starrk lay low, his breathing soft as he looked down at the camp spread out before him. Los Lobos was nearby, head laying on his paws as he dozed.

There had been no signs of movement for the last couple of hours, and with a heavy sigh, he rested his head on the cool earth. What could they have possibly gained by taking Grimmjow? He had been the Sexta, so that ruled out ranking. Logically, he would guess that he had been ruled out as one of the largest threats, considering that he'd practically been feral as an Espada.

"Shit, Grimmjow. What've you gotten yourself into now?" he sighed.


	14. Bloodbath

**A/N: I'm back. Hope you all didn't miss me all that much. Currently, I'm hiding in my bunker with my laptop and enough provisions to last through the next ten chapters of WLoM. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. **

**Quick update on this fic: There's only going to be three more chapters. Hopefully. Crossing my fingers, here. I'm so close to concluding this fic that I've been developing a nasty twitch over the last week or so. I'm so excited and so sad at the same time. This fic has been so much fun to write, and I'm mourning the fact that I'm letting it grow up.**

**Moonlight by The Piano Guys is the inspiration for this chapter. **

o-o-o-o

Chapter Fourteen

Grimmjow was woken by soft steps next to his prone form. Wearily, he pried one eye open, refusing to allow himself to stay in unconsciousness while there was anyone nearby. His head ached, no doubt because of the torture that Tsukishima had put him through hours earlier.

He couldn't tell how long he'd been tied to the metal table. All he knew that he was in pain and if he got free, he could name several other people who would be as well. He noted that there were also several IV's hooked up to his arms. He remained motionless as he realized who exactly was prowling around the table and looking like he wanted nothing more than to rip him apart with his bare hands to dissect him. His eyes, however, honed in on the six that could be seen peeking out from under the low cut white pants.

"Didn't realize they let runts like you take over the Sexta, Luppi." he barked out a laugh mockingly, unable to resist the temptation of baiting the feminine soldier. Luppi and Grimmjow unfortunately had a past, and not a pleasant one. The runt had always been on his back about something or other, and it was a well known fact that if Grimmjow wasn't so agressive and cunning, he would have become the Sexta. However, every murder attempt failed, mostly due to the fact that Grimmjow was known to be unbalanced to begin with. Not only that, but he had been an uncontrollable war machine. He went into a bloodlust that lasted well until after a battle, and he would kill both enemy and ally alike if they had the misfortune of crossing his path.

But he was no longer that war machine. He had refused to stay like that, barely even human as he had murdered hundreds with barely any remorse. It was the reason that he had stayed Sexta for so long.

"So cocky, aren't we?" Luppi replied delicately, hiding his face with one of those damned long sleeves. "I was wondering the same about you for so long, too."

Grimmjow snorted, earning a raised brow. "Is that the best you've got?" he taunted, feeling a feral grin cross his lips. The beast inside of him was already waking, calling for this pup's blood to be spilled, urging him to escape and kill anyone who dared cross him.

"Of course not, cat." Luppi replied easily, turning, the tent flap still open and allowing the light from outside to shine in faintly. If he'd had to guess, Grimmjow would say that it was late afternoon, perhaps early evening. "And as fun as it is to have such a pleasant conversation with you after all of these years...I have my orders."

Turning, Grimmjow was unable to tell what the black haired male was up to, but he quickly found out at the current Sexta turned, a syringe in his hand.

"You recall Zommari's Brujeria, no?" he questioned blandly, flicking the side of the syringe and causing a few droplets of the indigo liquid within to churn unpleasantly. "While Brujeria is a powerful sedative, Amor has a far more deadly effect on its host. There's a hallucinogen that causes a hormonal imbalance that has a rather nasty habit of raising aggression levels to extreme heights. Zommari developed it just before you killed him."

Grimmjow bared his teeth at the syringe as Luppi advanced on him. Straining against the ties, he felt one begin to give under the extreme pressure it was being forced to endure, but it was too late. Luppi swooped in, a sneer on his features as he plunged the metal into his flesh.

"Good luck, cat. You're going to need it." Luppi hissed viciously before ripping the syringe from the crook of his elbow before leaving, closing the tent flap behind him.

Grimmjow grit his teeth at the sharp stinging that was radiating out from his elbow. Already, he could feel an uncomfortable amount of heat creep over his torso, and he idly wondered what the hell was in store for him before losing unconsciousness for God knew what time.

o-o-o-o

Although Ichigo had submitted to Los Lobos as the Alpha, it didn't mean that the Wolfdog liked it. Oh no. It was the exact opposite. The only person he would allow near him was Shirosaki, although that was most likely because he was Zangetsu's handler. If they had to pick one word to describe the canine, it had to be sulky. Hands down, it would be sulky.

Starrk could feel for the poor canine, but since he was still considered the rookie of the Pack, he wasn't going to let the young Wolfdog get any slack. He treated him the same as any of the other dogs, to which no one even batted an eyelash to. They knew Starrk's way of training wasn't in the norm, and had long ago learned not to question it. Unless the idiot who happened to object was Shirosaki. He never seemed to learn, as everyone was proven time and time again. The albino just couldn't get it through his skull that Starrk was the Pack leader, and he was not.

All in all, it was amusing for everyone else to watch Shirosaki attempt to go toe to toe with Starrk. The slate eyed male had been through more war in a several months than Shirosaki had been through in his entire life, and hardly anything phased him anymore. He was calm, level headed, and not one to take any shit from Shirosaki. On the contrary, if the albino had been a canine, he would have run the other direction with his tail tucked tightly between his legs and never have come back.

Now only if it would stay that way.

"What's wit' all o' this damned waitin'?" said albino drawled, his gaze honed in on Starrk as he leaned neutrally against the trunk of a tree. "Blue's stuck down there in that hellhole an' all we're doin' is sitting around wastin' our time!"

"I gotta agree with him for once." Nnoitra shrugged. "Sure, Six pisses me off beyond all imagining, but who knows what they're doin' to him?"

Starrk fingered his holsters lightly, causing both males to suddenly rethink their words, but Starrk spoke before either of them could go off in babbling nonsense.

"We're waiting for an opportunity." he stated simply. "I've been watching the camp for a couple of nights now, and it seems as though Aizen himself is going to be making an appearance soon. I have a feeling that Grimmjow is the reason why."

No one could really argue with that kind of logic. After all, almost all of the men and dogs present lusted after the bastard's blood. They had been waiting for a chance like this for years. Starrk subtly sent a glance towards Ulquiorra, thinking of how the pale skinned man would especially want a part in their former Lord's death. And personally, Starrk didn't want to be in a ten mile radius if it happened. Ulquiorra had been abused practically since he was a child, picked up from the streets at the youngest age of six. He had been raised in cruelty, treated like trash the entire time that he had been an Espada, and it had left deep emotional scars that he wasn't sure would ever fade with time.

Kira was the only one who seemed to be confused, but Kenpachi simply gave a curt shake of his head as the timid blond sent him a curious glance. It was not his story to tell. Only the others could tell him what they had been through and why they thirsted for revenge.

Sighing, Starrk snapped his fingers, and Los Lobos appeared at his side. Looking up at the quickly darkening sky, he began making his way out of the small clearing that they had claimed as their temporary camp, headed back towards the fringe of the trees overlooking the camp. He wanted to make sure that there would be no flaws in this plan. He had to make sure that they had their chance to end Aizen's command of terror for good. And if it meant taking down every single Arrancar that got in their way, than so be it.

o-o-o-o

Grimmjow whirled, his teeth bared as the men closed in on him. His long matted hair was now coated in blood, though whether it was his or not was to be determined. One leg was seeping blood from deep teeth marks from one of the dogs who had been foolish enough to come close to him.

In the back of his mind, he could only watch in mute horror as he watched himself become the war beast he had disowned, refused to become again. And yet, with Amor he was doing exactly that. His blood was thrumming in his veins, calling out for the blood of battle, desiring their enemies flesh.

Turning, he lunged at one of the soldiers who had dared come close enough for him to sink his teeth into his shoulder as his powerful fingers crushed his windpipe, jaws dripping with crimson. He was immune to the pain his wounds would no doubt cause later, but at the moment, he was free. He was Sexta, and none could stand in his way without being crushed underfoot. This was his kingdom. He was the King of his domain, and any who dared trespass would pay with their lives.

The carnage he brought in the makeshift arena was extreme. Bodies littered the dusty ground, blood sinking into the earth and staining it dark as he ripped through the ranks of the recruits foolish enough to think that he was a tame kitten since he had been away from the Espada for so long. He proved them wrong, one by one, as he killed them without mercy.

That is, until there was the sound of a gunshot in the air, and then silence fell. He felt his hackles raise as his head snapped towards the sound, teal honing in onto the dull brown of a man he thought he would never see again.

"Hello, Grimmjow." Aizen said.

o-o-o-o

Starrk lowered the binoculars, his face grim as he saw the familiar brown haired man exit the dark jeep.

This really wasn't good. Aizen was here now, and they had no idea what state their missing comrade was in.

Silently, the slate eyed man wriggled backwards, gesturing for Los Lobos to follow. Then, he ghosted through the trees, making his way through a complicated series of twists and turns that would hopefully lose anyone who would be trying to track him back to the camp.

As he entered the camp, Starrk was quiet, shaking his head slightly at the glance that Ulquiorra spared him as he made his way over to his one man tent so that he could grab some of the dry foods that had been sent along with the pack.

"Well?" Shirosaki and Nnoitra demanded, nearly shoving one another out of the way in their eagerness to get to their designated mission leader. "What the hell's going on down there?"

Starrk took several moments to seat himself and then settle in before he raised his gaze to meet each of the team's, his tone heavy as he spoke.

"Aizen's here."


	15. Make a Move

**A/N: Hey all. Sorry about the delay in updates. I didn't mean to, I swear.**

**...Actually, I guess I kind of did, but that's not the point. **

**This is it, folks. We've finally reached the end of Bloodstained Memories. It's been a bit of a bumpy ride, but I thank all of you for sticking with me this far. It means so much that you've all stayed this long and given me this much support. All that's left after this is the Epilogue and acknowledgements. **

**Make a Move by Icon for Hire is the inspiration for this chapter. I suggest listening to Your Hand in Mine by Explosions in the Sky near the end, however. You'll see why. **

o-o-o-o

Chapter Fifteen

Aizen looked down on him, as he always had, his dull brown gaze making his hackles raise even further than they already had.

He could feel himself becoming Grimmjow again, the Sexta retreating to the back of his mind, gracefully curling itself back into an uneasy corner. His injuries became more clear to him as the other presence that shared his mind left, leaving him to deal with the carnage it had created.

Warily, the teal haired male straightened partially from his feral crouch, though not entirely. If there was one thing he could expect from Aizen, it was to be prepared. He never knew what the man would do next.

"It's been a while."

"Not long enough." he snarled.

He could feel the ground shift under his heels, his feet bare, now only clad in the tan uniform pants that he had been issued before he and the rest of the group had departed. His hair brushed his back uncomfortably, causing him to shift again, hearing the sounds of guns being loaded behind him.

Grimmjow bared his teeth, glancing quickly behind him.

"It's alright. Stand down."

Oh, how he hated that goddamned tone. As if he was speaking to a bunch of idiot kids instead of soldiers. It had always been something that had pissed him off to no end, what with all of the fake sympathy. It was one of the many things that had driven Grimmjow to hate the bastard.

"Mah, mah, what did I miss?" another familiar voice spoke up, followed by one of Grimmjow's least favorite people.

Gin Ichimaru was not only stealthy, but the man looked like a cross between a snake and a fox. His light violet hair glimmered silver under the harsh gleam of the sun, and his thin form was clad in the white that the rest of the army seemed to be wearing. However, his clothing was much looser than the others, more flexible. Probably able to conceal more weapons too, now that he thought about it.

"Ah, Grimmjow!" Gin greeted, his snake like grin stretching further up his face as he saw who it was that Aizen was speaking to. "It's been a while, neh?"

How the man could actually see out of those slits he called eyes was a mystery to Grimmjow, who at this point was about to fall over from exhaustion and pain. But somehow, he did.

"Mah, Aizen-sama, I think he's gonna fall over." Gin said almost curiously. "What's been goin' on around here?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Gin." Aizen smiled sickeningly at the male. If Grimmjow didn't know any better, he would have said that Gin had actually shuddered at the look that he was being given by the leader of the Espada. But that couldn't be right. Gin was Aizen's right hand man, wasn't he? What had changed in the years that he had been in hiding?

However, Gin recovered quickly, sending a grin of his own back at Aizen. "I'll take him back to his quarters."

There was silence from Aizen, and the two men stared one another in the eye, Gin's smile never leaving his face as he did so.

"Very well." Aizen finally nodded, backing down.

It was right about then that Grimmjow realized that he was definitely missing something here. Something had obviously changed between the two men, who had once been rumored to have been lovers. There was no admiration that Gin had once seemed to display every time that Aizen was around.

He barely even registered Gin lifting one of his arms around his shoulders before slowly starting off with the former Sexta. His touches were gentle as he led the half dead male back to the tent of horrors that he had already come to know fairly well in his short time of being there, and his voice was soft and comforting.

"Grimmjow. I need you to listen to me." Gin was whispering, urgent now. Grimmjow blinked, dragging his mind out of unconsciousness to listen. This was odd. Gin was never one to really make an effort to make comments like this.

"Believe it or not, but I work closely with Kisuke Urahara and Kira Izuru. I'm here to help you." the male murmured in his ear, lips feather light as they brushed against the sensitive skin. "I'm a double agent, have been for years. Aizen killed my sister, Rangiku, when we were kids. Kisuke found me, took me in, and then sent me back out to Aizen. I've been spying on him since then."

His sluggish mind tried to process the information that was being dumped onto him, his battered body aching and further distracting him.

"Ever wonder how you managed to make it through your parting gift with the Espada?" Gin was saying. "I dragged you out of the fire they left you in and called for help."

"How very touching."

Gin stiffened.

"I always thought that you were a little too friendly for your own good, Gin." Tsukishima said softly, coming out from his hiding place. "Now I know why."

o-o-o-o

Starrk rubbed his eyes tiredly, wondering how the hell they were going to get Grimmjow out of this mess. By the looks of things, Aizen was locking down on security. Already, he could see several different units departing from the camp and making their way out to patrol, and he knew that the little group of their own back with the dogs would have to move if they didn't want to end up in another shit fest. Although Kenpachi and Shirosaki would probably be lusting for a fight at this point, considering that they had only had the one on this trip.

Silently, he wriggled back down the small incline before setting off into the thick foilage, knowing that even though Grimmjow needed them, all they could do was retreat farther back into the woods where the patrols couldn't find them. It was simply too risky to try and attempt a rescue. With Aizen's arrival, all he could assume was that there was a reason that Grimmjow had been taken instead of anyone else, and it was driving the former Primera crazy.

o-o-o-o

Grimmjow had to admit- he never thought that Gin would have both a knife and a katana as a weapon choice. Not only that, but he knew how to use both of them with ease, proving just how he had managed to claw his way up the ranks.

However, Tsukishima was also a high ranking officer for a reason, as he too used a katana.

"You're too late, Tsukishima-san." Gin smiled unpleasantly. "I know your style like the back of my hand. Ya always pretend to be so calm and collected, but really, ya just like to hack into living things to see what makes 'em tick. No better then Kurotsuchi."

"The same could be said for you, think I don't know your talents? I've watched you grow into the agent you are today." Tsukishima replied softly, his quiet persona not moving an inch. "Besides, I'm sure we both realize what happens now."

"I'm taking that bastard down with me." Gin said quite pleasantly. "And I'm sad to say that I'll go through anything that gets in my way."

_Get up. _

Grimmjow's eyelids flickered as the rumble echoed through his mind.

_Get up, coward. We have work to do._

_With what?_

_Reinforcements. _

He could feel the Sexta uncurling again, slowly enveloping his vision in crimson, and he pulled himself to his feet, pain dulling into the background. He could feel his muscles stretch out as if on their own, but ignored it in favor of waiting like a hunting cat in the shadow of the tent that he had been left in.

He didn't have to wait long.

Launching himself through the air, he landed on the first soldier that came into his range, his hand easily crushing the windpipe beneath him. Stretching out, he let out a challenging roar that rang through the camp, no doubt alerting everyone within a mile radius of his location.

He didn't care. He was Sexta, and he was ready for a fight.

o-o-o-o

Ichigo's ears pricked, and he stood, his stance stiff.

Starrk paused to glance at the Wolfdog. Something had caught the canine's attention, and whatever it was held his attention more than the rest of the dogs or people around him.

"Hey Coyote, what's up with Ichigo?" Shirosaki asked curiously, noticing that the canine was no longer beside him and Zangetsu.

"I don't know." the former Primera replied, just as confused as the rest as Ichigo suddenly relaxed and began walking again, as if nothing had happened in the first place.

o-o-o-o

It wasn't long after that Grimmjow and Gin had been rounded up and tied down to sturdy trees. Gin was silent through it all, almost willingly going along with the actions of their captors, minus a couple offhand comments.

Grimmjow put up a fight the entire way through, the Sexta unwilling to be brought down without a fight, but he too was eventually tied. His shoulders had been wrenched behind him, his wrists rubbing against the bark of the tree every time he shifted.

"I'd love ta say that I have a plan, but unfortunately I didn't think quite so far." Gin commented vaguely. "But hey, at least I get to die with a smile on my face."

"Probably." Grimmjow replied wearily, his eyes threatening to close.

"Ah, shit. Grimm, don't fall asleep on me now, ya hear?"

Grimmjow struggled to pull himself out of the dizziness that surrounded his mind like a swarm of wasps, purposefully grating his wrists against the bark for the extra shock to get him back to awareness. Luckily, it worked, though for how long it would last was another issue entirely.

"Grimm, I mean it. Just listen to my voice and stay awake."

"We're going to regret that, I just know it."

o-o-o-o

There was something going on around around them, he could tell. Movement, yells, the sounds of vehicles being packed. Grimmjow watched it all with half lidded eyes, exhaustion flooding his systems.

"Well, well, look at what I get to work with." Tsukishima's soft voice nearly crooned. "A couple of traitors."

"Nice to see ya too, Shima." Gin chirped brightly from his tree. "Was there something ya wanted?"

Tsukishima laughed softly before taking a step closer to Gin, his hand reaching into a pocket and grabbing something. Pulling it free, Grimmjow could make it out to be a knife of some kind, gleaming wickedly in the quickly fading sunlight as night came closer.

"Actually, yes. There's something that Aizen-sama wants back from the both of you."

"Ah." Gin replied darkly. "Better hurry up then, I have places ta be."

"I'm sure you do." Tsukishima hummed before kneeling, his hands quickly shredding the fabric around Gin's hip before aiming for a small scar. "Don't worry, this will only hurt for a moment. Then it will burn."

Grimmjow turned his head away as the first slash was made, ignoring the small hisses and groans coming from Gin. He didn't know what it was that Tsukishima, but he had said that there was something the _both _of them had. Meaning that he was next.

He knew time passed- it grew dark, but that didn't mean that he was spared from the torture he could hear Tsukishima causing Gin as he savagely dug into the violet haired male's side.

It was only when Gin finally fell silent that Tsukishima stood, turning his eyes to Grimmjow next.

There was only a moment for him to brace himself for the pain that he knew was coming, knowing that the man was lost in his bloodlust.

Pain shattered his already fragile mind, and he found his shoulder suddenly held down tightly by Tsukishima's unforgiving grip. Then the blade struck, digging so deeply into his flesh that he couldn't help the strangled screech of fear and pain that ripped its way out of his sore throat. Writhing, he tried to knock the man away from him, only to recieve a heavy blow to the side of his head, sending him reeling into the bark of the tree behind him.

It was a blessing when he finally fell into unconsciousness.

o-o-o-o

_"Grimm, time to wake up." _

He pried his tired eyes open, mumbling something unpleasant before rolling over and trying to fall back asleep. He'd been having another one of those really weird dreams, one that made no sense, when she had decided it was time for him to get up. Yeah, that was not about to happen.

"Grimm..."

"No. I'm sleeping, neko." he mumbled, flailing on arm vaguely in her direction.

Then the realization of what he'd just said clicked in his mind, and he was up in a flash.

He could never forget those eyes, or the seafoam green curls that tumbled over her shoulders.

"Nel."

"Hey Grimm." she smiled sadly.

He couldn't help himself. Tentatively, he reached out, touching her curls as if he were afraid that she would disappear again at the slightest touch. "It's really you."

"Yeah, big brother. It's really me." she smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. In another moment, she'd launched herself into his arms, sobbing like the child she was. In shock, Grimmjow could only hold onto her desperately, feeling his own tears beginning to form. It was Nel. His baby sister, someone who he thought he'd never see again.

Finally, she pulled back, a watery smile offered to him. "You grew your hair."

"I did it for you."

"I know."

"Where are we?" Grimmjow had to ask, taking in his surroundings. He was seated against what felt like a tree, but as he looked, it was stone. Beneath him, for as far as he could see, was white sand. The sky was dark above them, the moon gleaming and lighting up the sand eerily. In the distance, the faintest outline of some kind of giant white castle stood.

"We're in an in between, Grimm."

"In between what?"

She gave him one of her familiar half smiles, one that he knew to be one that she reserved for when she was being wise and beyond her years. "We're in between you. Your life. Your death."

His breath hitched. "What?"

"You're here until a decision is made. I'm here because you're my big brother. You shouldn't be alone."

She suddenly tilted her head to one side, a bright smile crossing her features. "There's someone else who wants to see you."

"Who-?"

A short bark was his answer, and Pantera bounded out of nowhere, her coat gleaming as she leapt onto Grimmjow, her sky blue eyes searching his own. This time, he couldn't help the tears that fell, and he wrapped his shaking arms around Pantera's slim form, allowing them to fall.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." he murmured into her warm chest, hearing the familiar sound of her heart through the fur. She gently pulled back, licking at his tears for him before settling herself in the sand next to him.

"She doesn't blame you." Nel smiled. "She knows it was her time."

"It shouldn't have been, though. For either of you." he choked.

"It was meant to be, big brother. And I never left. I've always been here." she placed her palm over his heart, her eyes conveying everything that he knew she wished she could have said but couldn't. "And I always will be. And so will Pantera. As long as you remember us, you'll never be alone."

_"Grimmjow!" _

"What was that?"

"Your friends came back for you." she whispered. "They're trying to bring you back."

_"-saki! Get me that pack now!"_

"I don't want you to leave." he said, almost desperately.

"I know." came the calm reply. "But it's still your decision, in the end."

Pantera lent him her head as she whined gently. Nel bowed her own, fidgeting with the hem of her white and green sundress that he could remember her wearing when they were both kids. It had been her favorite thing to wear, and she would have worn it all the time if she could.

"They'll miss you." Nel murmured, bright eyes staring at him pleadingly. "They're your friends now."

Friends. The concept was strnage for him to think of. Yet, he supposed that it was true.

"Go back." came a new voice.

She was tall, in her late teens at best, with light green hair and a violet eye. The other was covered with a bandage, but her expression was soft. "My idiot brother needs you."

Instinctively, Grimmjow knew that this was Lilynette.

Another soft nose nudged at Grimmjow's palm, and he was suddenly faced with a face that he had seen in pictures. "Fornicaras."

The Shepherd nudged at his hand again before retreating to Lilynette's side, settling herself in.

"We all know it was our time. But you still have the choice, Grimmjow." Lilynette restated.

Grimmjow was torn. He knew that his sister and Pantera were here, and that they missed him. But now he had connections to people, to others that he thought he would never be able to make. He had friends, regardless of if he choosed to acknowledge it or not. He had a foot in each world.

_"We're losing him!" _

Grimmjow closed his eyes.

And his heart stopped beating.


	16. Epilogue

_"There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story."_

_-Frank Herbert_

o-o-o-o

_Two Years Later_

o-o-o-o

He yawned.

His frame was perched on the roof of a building, roughly seventy stories up, nothing but his earpiece and sniper rifle for company. And his itchy shoulder.

Grumbling something unpleasant to himself, he was forced to let go of the rifle for a moment in order to scratch at the stump of his shoulder, instantly feeling much better. Pink was still getting on his ass about not doing the stretches and all that other fun crap that he really wasn't all that interested in but knew he needed to do if he was ever going to get over the phantom pains he occasionally got.

_"Hey Blue. Got visuals yet?" _

"We both know that you'll be the first to know, Ichimaru, considering you're the one sitting out on the curb waiting." he rolled his eyes, squashing the urge to mutter something else back at the violet haired man but also knowing that it would eventually come back to bite him in the ass.

_"Actually, not anymore. Wolfman dragged me back into the van." _

"Aren't you lucky?" he sighed. "I'm fucking freezing my ass off up here. There's a lot of wind going on, and it's cold, let me tell you."

_"Sucks to be you." _

"Fuck off."

_"Ichimaru, stop pissing off Grimmjow!" _Szayel hissed in the background. _"Do it later, when we're not trying to take down the most dangerous man in Asia!"_

Grimmjow couldn't help but chuckle at Szayel's annoyed tone before reclining back, leaning against the cement that enclosed the roof with a sigh. His teal hair, once long and braided, had been taken off with a well wielded pair of scissors, and was now spiked casually in all directions. His lean frame was clad in a tight black t-shirt, the stump of one shoulder sticking out of the sleeve casually. He was wearing black and coal camo pants, while he was wearing combat boots on his feet. Idly, he scratched at his stump again, waiting for new data.

They'd been hunting Aizen for two years. Two long years, and finally they had caught up with him in New York. The thrill of bloodlust had crossed his mind the moment he'd heard the news, and it was him alone who would be claiming the bastards life. After all of the suffering he had suffered in his life, all of the lies and hopelessness and pain and loss, and he was finally getting his chance to kill the man who had taken hundreds of innocent lives.

Nel. Lilynette. Fornicaras. Pantera. Those were the first that crossed his mind when he thought of the innocents who had fallen under Aizen's merciless slaughter.

_"Hey Grimmjow, how are you holding up?" _

He couldn't help the smile that tugged his lips up into an amused smile as his _partner's _calm voice made it's way through the earpiece. He could imagine the vaguely tired look that was crossing the other's face as he asked the question, could practically predict what he would say after Grimmjow replied.

"Could be better. What about you?"

_"Shoulder bugging you?"_

"No more than usual, Starrk." he assured the man vaguely, peeking his head back up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man he was supposed to be taking out. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

_"You know, I can't help but feel like I've heard those words before. Didn't it end up with you being rescued from jail?" _

"You know that wasn't _exactly _my fault..but I did have something to do with it." Grimmjow smirked. "Although I have to say, the concern definitely played out in my favor that night.."

_"That could change." _there was a teasing note now, something that he knew both annoyed and was found endearing to his partner. _"After all, you are rather vocal about bottoming." _

"With good reason."

Conversation lulled for several minutes following Grimmjow's comment, and the teal haired man returned to his position, waiting patiently for his target to make an appearance. His heart was thumping steadily, though at the thought of the coming death, adrenaline automatically flooded his systems, supercharging his sesnes for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last three hours. Actually, if he had been keeping track, it probably was up around that number, give or take a few.

_"Blue, we got visuals. You ready?" _

"Ichimaru, I was ready when he killed my sister." Grimmjow replied with a dark chuckle. "And when he killed Pantera, and then again with Tsukishima."

_"Speaking of which.." _Gin's voice crackled dangerously, "_The prick's with Aizen." _

"Two targets?"

_"Looks like it. Give 'em hell, Blue."_

"With pleasure."

Quickly, the teal haired man checked everything. If something went wrong now, it would take them years to hunt down the bastard again, not to mention getting everything in place in order to make an attack happen.

And then all there was was the wait. He could feel his heart now pounding against his chest, as if it were trying to make an escape. Taking a deep breath, Grimmjow steadied himself, feeling the Sexta stir in the back of his mind. The presence was comforting now, not the fear driven beast any longer. No, now it was a second nature to him, one that he had accepted as an equal.

_"They've entered the building. ETA three minutes."_

"Got it, Starrk."

_"Good luck." _

The tingle that flashed across his skin only lasted a moment, and yet, that was all it took for him to smile again.

"Love ya."

_"I know."_

All other words weren't needed. Grimmjow smirked to himself, and then let out a low growl at the sudden appearance of Aizen. Close behind was Tsukishima, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to be standing in front of them so that they _knew _who it was who had killed them. But this, this was enough. Simply knowing that he'd been the one to blow their miserable brains out, and remembering that fact twenty years down the road, with all of this miserable gang shit behind him.

He watched as Aizen moved closer to the window, saying something to Tsukishima before looking out the window at the streets below. His mind slipped into a momentary calm, one that was cold and calculating and craving an end to all of this madness, and he slowly shifted the rifle, sighting down the barrel before moving his finger to hover over the trigger.

This was it. After all those years, and it came down to this.

"Just die already."

And then his finger clenched around the trigger. Once, twice, three times, and that was all it took.

Red splattered the windows like fireworks, and that was it. Everything that had tied him to the Espada, anything that had hurt him...it was all gone.

"It's over."

There was a silent sigh of relief, one that he knew Starrk had been holding all this time. Lilynette could finally rest easy. Nel and Pantera, Fornicaras, everyone who had been attacked or killed or stolen from could finally rest easy knowing that Aizen was dead.

_"It's over." _Starrk agreed.

"Let's go home, Starrk." Grimmjow said wearily.

_"Whatever you want, Grimmjow." _

o-o-o-o

After all of the laughter and jokes, everything that had happened just seemed to sink in for Grimmjow. Subconsciously, he stayed close to Starrk, seeking out comfort silently. Everything just seemed to click into place, and it was as if all of the pressure and grief and horror was only just registering after the ten plus years.

Starrk seemed to pick up on his discomfort, and slowly ushered everyone away from him so that they could get home, back to their canine companions, somewhere that they could just let everything that they were feeling out.

It was a silent ride in the vehicle, and Grimmjow couldn't help but itch at the stump of his shoulder persistently. Starrk was simply a comforting presence for the entire drive, and it was something that Grimmjow knew that he wouldn't be able to get through otherwise.

"Do you get the feeling that it was all too simple?"

Starrk glanced at the teal haired man for a moment before sighing, pulling over to the side of the road before turning to face him.

"Yes. I do think that it was too simple. But it's over now. It's time to take back the time that was taken from us and turn ourselves to the future." the slate eyed man said softly.

"I know that! But-" Grimmjow started. "It just feels like it shouldn't be over. That after all these years, all it took was a couple of bullets into their goddamn brains."

"But that's what happened."

"I know." Grimmjow muttered, looking back out the window. "Let's just go home. I need to see Ichigo."

Starrk said nothing, but pulled back onto the road.

o-o-o-o

The rest of the day was spent curled on their bed, with Los Lobos and Ichigo curled around their masters still forms. It wasn't as though they were grieving for Aizen, far from it, actually, but it was a shock to Grimmjow considering that he had practically grown up under his rule.

"You should finish the journal." Starrk finally broke the silence, running a hand soothingly through Grimmjow's short hair. "The last step."

"Yeah."

o-o-o-o

_I think it's time I finally say 'screw it all and get it over with'. So here it is. _

_I think I can finally move on now. There's no more reason to fight, though I say damn it all to hell if someone trys to come back and get me. A long time ago, I was once someone who had a family, a home. And I lost it all, too. _

_But I think, now, after every single shitty moment that I've gone through, including almost dying, I think I can say that I'm home. _

_Szayel is pussy-footing around Harribel, and I think everyone's just waiting for the guy to make a move. _

_Shirosaki's still as crazy as ever, and Kenpachi, Yachiru, and Soifon are all somewhere in Russia at the moment. Rumor has it that Soifon's pregnant again. I say the world's screwed. _

_Gin and Kira are engaged, cheesy as it sounds. Apparently Gin's thinking about adopting. I have a feeling that Kira won't have a say in the matter if that snake eyed prick decides to go through with it. _

_I got another tattoo a while back. It's a portrait of Pantera, with the words, 'She flies with her own wings' underneath. It just didn't seem right that there was nothing left of her, and Starrk was the one who encouraged me to do it. _

_I never thought I would turn soft. The thought of a partner never occurred to me until after I woke up in Szayel's operating room, with Starrk snoring away at the bottom of my bed. Apparently he'd been keeping an eye on me for everyone else because Gin had also been pretty FUBAR. Since then, I think its safe to say that I've turned into a pretty fucked up guy with a bad habit of turning into some emotional PMS type wreck. _

_But hey, at least things are finally starting to look up. _

o-o-o-o

**A/N: Well, this is it. The final chapter in Bloodstained Memories. I want to thank each and every one of you amazing people who followed this fic. **

**As I type, this fic stands at 38 reviews, 19 favorites, 37 follows, and 4,722 views total. I never thought that BSM would ever get this much support, so the fact that it means that I was doing something right. **

**Thank you all. Truly, it has been a blessing to finally finish Bloodstained Memories, and I ask that you all review one last time. **


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